


Hold Your Breath

by KTfromTHEstix



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alberta - Canada, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Baby Fic (But who is really surprised there), Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Inverness - Scotland, London - England, Marseille - France, Romance, Warsaw - Poland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 111,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTfromTHEstix/pseuds/KTfromTHEstix
Summary: Fame can be a real bitch.Geralt is a seasoned actor, one of Hollywood's darling womanizers. Yennefer is a promising up and comer, looking to prove she is more than just a pretty face. Both cast in starring roles for a new fantasy drama, they’ll be pushed to their limits to ensure the show becomes a success.
Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Sabrina Glevissig/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 213
Kudos: 175





	1. Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> ”Hold Your Breath", by Ruelle
> 
> Disclaimer; I've only seen the Netflix adaptation, so when I'm stomping all over canon it's b/c I don't know any better. Sorry about that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: No promises, you might hate it. I have _no clue_ how a film set operates. Rating hike eventually. Enjoy XD
> 
> “Love and War”, by Fleurie

:: _She was breathtaking. Perched regally on a rock outcropping, her long, ebony curls fluttered in the ocean breeze. Violet eyes flashed as she shaded her eyes with her hand, the sun was bright in the sky. Her lithe body was golden tan down to her trim waist, where a shimmering ivory tail began._

 _She watched the men on the beach from afar, her blush colored lips pursed in concentration.  
She was the youngest of her sisters, but by some accounts, the most lovely. Her patrician features were delicate and graceful, her beauty subtle and warm. Waves crashed into the sandstone below her, sea spray clinging to her bare skin, dampening the soft tresses obscuring her breasts from view. _::

“Cut! Beautiful Yenna. Can somebody get her some ice water, it’s hot as balls out here in the sun. Hang tight doll, we’ll be back at you in twenty.” Jaskier grabbed his clipboard, his team following him down the beach toward their second shooting location.

———

They were filming in the south of France, a new series for HBO. The plot was rather involved; sirens, pirates and greek gods all woven into one. Like many shows of the same caliber, if there were enough bodies, naked or bloody, the show would do well in the ratings.

Actors costumed as sea faring men bustled about the beach. Some tied ropes and netting, others secured fake provisions. One stood apart from the rest, a hair stylist and a tailor fussing over him. A massive wooden frigate floated just off the beach, by far one of the most expensive sets built for the show.

“All right Ger, we’ve got the setting sun just right. Perseus is doing his thing, they’re getting ready to set sail and he gets a serious case of the willies - Queue our mysterious mermaid maiden.” Geralt nodded his acknowledgment. 

“Roll it!” The clapperboard snapped and the cameraman panned down the beach to the men.

:: _Cool air rustled his long, thick, sandy brown hair. It was the same ocean breeze that had caused gooseflesh to erupt down her bare back. Different from the men around him, he carried himself with an air of authority, he commanded respect. “Open one of those casks as soon as we set sail Felix.” He ordered, his voice low and gruff._

_He moved on to the next trunk, inspecting the wares they had earned. Illegally of course. Remnants of the rival pirating vessel lay strewn on the beach around their feet. A trunk full of ladies dresses and lacy underthings. He ran his rough fingers over one of the beaded corsets. “Eh, what the hell.” He muttered to himself. He motioned to the young man trailing behind him, “The lower hold for this one Marcellus.”_

_He straightened to his full height, sweat gathering on his brow. He was a big man, taller than most, his shoulders broad and defined. His heavily muscled arms pulled taunt on the white shirt, chest hair visible underneath it as it gaped open. The corded sinew of his thighs was visible against his breeches, the thick leather of his boots reaching high on his calves._

_He turned unexpectedly, sensing something amiss, that someone was watching them. The setting sun kissed the angular lines of his face as he peered into the distance. His high, defined cheekbones only drew attention and emphasized his strong jaw. His golden irises were bright and sharp as his gaze panned over the nearby bluffs and rock formations._

_There was something on one of the rock outcroppings, something dark. He felt for the dagger at his waist, and checked the pistol slung low on his hip. He looked back up toward the bluffs, and it was gone. Whatever, or whomever he’d seen had disappeared. Damn. They needed to hurry up and board the ship before dark. “Felix!” he barked. The bearded man came running. “Where are we on the dry goods?”_ ::

———

-Geralt-

“Cut!” Jaskier shouted. “Good to go gentlemen. Everyone in the rescue scene saddle up, we’ll be on in an hour. The moon’ll be high enough to get the shots we need.”

He walked over to Geralt who was leaning against a heavy trunk, flipping through his phone. “Looking sweaty and buff pal, gotta hand it to you.” Jaskier and Geralt had worked on projects before, and it was actually Geralt’s suggestion that the production team bring Jaskier in for an interview for the director’s role. Jaskier had the kind of directorial eye they were looking for, his flair for the dramatic only increased his allure for the particular project.

Geralt smirked, “That’s what they pay me for.” He handed his phone back to his assistant and turned to his friend. “Is she gonna behave now that we’re shooting together? I’ve only run into her a couple of times so far on set, and every single time she’s been a prissy bitch.”

“She’s young, but she’s a professional. So far at least. She’s trying hard to prove herself. We can’t all be _you_.” He teased. “I like her. You make up your own mind about her, but give her a chance.” He cuffed Geralt on the arm and headed back down the beach toward the bluffs for his next shoot.

———

:: _He’d seen her. She bent low and slipped off of the bluff, her body graceful as she entered the water without so much as a splash. She glided through the sea effortlessly, tendrils of her dark mane trailing behind as the subtle movements of her tail propelled her petite frame._

_She curled around the base of a small island and picked up speed. Kelp, coral and other sea life whizzed past her darting form as she wove expertly along the sea floor. She neared an island that seemed a bit out of place, the flora was a bit different - so lush, and yet manicured, organized. The closer she got the more shallow the water, and suddenly she burst through the surface, taking a huge gulp of air._

_She could breathe underwater, that much was obvious, but the need for oxygen was just a natural an impulse. She stood on the sandy bottom, two perfectly human, slender legs where her powerful tail had been. She strode from the surf and up the beach to a small, man-made rock wall. She reached behind it and pulled out a small bundle of clothing. She dressed in what looked like a pair of boy’s breeches and a loose fitting white shirt._

_It wasn’t that she couldn’t wear finery, but that she preferred a more efficient dress to the tasks she insisted on doing. Botany, animals, ship building, even sparring - she wanted to learn and do it all. Her father may have been the God of the Sea, but she refused to spend her days perched on a slab of marble like a trophy._

_She walked a short distance down the beach in the moonlight, the white sand clinging to her bare feet and ankles. Ducking into the treeline, she disappeared just as fast as she had materialized in the surf. She walked for a minute or two and approached a small, seemingly abandoned hut. She pushed back the cloth that served as the door and walked into the tidy, one room structure. Long forgotten by the other inhabitants of the island, she spent much of her time there._

_A row of potted plants lined the front wall, medicinal leaves and herbs grew lush in their compact homes. A heaping stack of books resided against the opposite wall. Next to it lay a very basic pallet, lined with soft linens. It wasn’t that she was forbidden to read, but that she wanted to choose what she read._

_She struck a match from a shelf on the wall and lit a small, well burned candle, settling in with a book from the top of the pile. It seemed ironic, the daughter of a God, a Goddess in her own right, happy to spend her time living simply. To enjoy the basic, human pleasures earth offered in the face of the power that she was otherwise entitled to._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

“Cut! Wonderful Yennefer! We’ll overlay the CGI on the fast swimming parts.” Jaskier checked his watch as Yennefer floated in the water. “Really good change over time too, that tail was gone lickety-split and back on in no time!”

He pulled his headphones around his neck and checked his board. “You’re probably overdue for a break Yenna, why don’t you towel off and call it quits for tonight. The next scenes are moonlight only, so we can do yours tomorrow night, and we’ll shoot some with unit two on the ship.”

She nodded and thanked him, she _was_ tired. It had been fourteen hours filming so far that day, and she had been swimming through most of it. A competitive swimmer in high school and through university, she was well prepared for the role, but her muscles already burned with overuse. One of the men in the prop crew helped her up on the nearby dock, and her assistant Salma brought her a robe and a warm towel.

The woman had been a godsend. It turns out that when you accept a role as a nymph, specifically the daughter of Poseidon, you spend most of your time on set wet and naked. The hair extensions woven against her scalp did a fair job of covering her breasts if she paid attention, but the tail was a gossamer white that was nearly translucent. The piece began below her naval in any event, so she couldn’t do much with bikini bottoms either.

The crew had all been gentlemen about it, and Salma quick with a covering and a helping hand. She shivered as she clutched the towel around her shoulders, the other woman working the hidden ties on the tail.

“Jaskier!” A loud voice boomed. “Why aren’t these camera’s rolling?” It was one of the producers, Cahir. Generally known as a hard ass, he demanded perfection on all of his projects.

Jaskier backpedaled quickly. “She’s been on for fourteen hours, I mean, it gets dangerous when an actor is so tired.”

Cahir slapped him on the back, “It’s your show Jaskier, you’re the director, I’m just picking on you.” He turned to the huddled pile of terry cloth on the doc, the stage lighting harsh on their eyes in the moonlight. “She can go longer though, can’t you babe? Newbies must prove themselves.”

She cleared her throat and forcibly calmed her quaking arms. “Right. Yes, I mean, I can do more. Sure.” Salma looked at her questioningly. Yennefer spoke to her quietly, “Please, tie it back up.” She gave the woman a wobbly smile.

Cahir leaned down close to her and she met his lips for a kiss. “Brunch tomorrow morning? I’ve got a meeting right after that.” She agreed and he turned and left the beach, intent on their warm bed.

Jaskier seemed hesitant but he relented, calling over one of the prop assistants to carry Yennefer back down the beach to the soundstage that held their ship. The young man that had gotten stuck with the job of helping her get around without legs was named Chireadan. He was a large framed guy, and he had been kind to her, despite being asked to haul her to and fro.

“I’m sorry about this Chireadan, I’m probably the heaviest and most annoying _prop_ you’ve been tasked to deal with.”

“Of course not, it’s an honor. Besides, I’ll just tell my mates I get to carry around a beautiful naked woman all day. Worth it.” He smirked. She laughed out loud as he lowered her into the surf, Salma taking the robe from her.

She was nervous, this would be her first scene with _him_. One of Hollywood’s most beloved womanizing bachelors. He who could do no wrong, he who’s performance hers would be measured against. He who was built like and resembled an actual greek god, but instead behaved like a dick.

Well, maybe that wasn’t fair, but he just wreaked of…too good to be true. If she saw one more grown woman pass out, squawking about she just breathed the same air as he had, she might retch.

She had attended university for theater, and was fully qualified and capable to handle a role of this caliber. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He wasn’t so damn great. He was annoying as hell every morning, roaring up to the set on that cherry red, attention seeking, motorcycle.

She cherished the calm, early morning minutes for stretching and light yoga, and the sound of he and whatever bimbette happened to be riding bitch that day always put her in a foul mood. There was nothing wrong with dating models, but a new one every week was irritating, and frankly _icky_.

Jaskier stood on a podium that had been moved onto the beach. “Alright folks, thanks for your quick hustle. A few of you have been out here for a long time so I’m going to try and not waste any more of it. The underwater film team is in place with all their fancy extra moonlight. Marcellus, you’re doin’ your slippery slip on the deck and your plop into the water.”

“Our Eirene got a peek at Perseus this afternoon, this girl likes what she sees and comes back curious to check out the goods in further detail.” There were a few chortles of laughter amongst the crew around him.

:: _She floated a safe distance away from the ship, moonlight illuminating the gentle pulse of the tide. Lights burned bright in what she assumed was the captain’s cabin, the stern of their vessel sturdy and littered with ornate carvings. She swam closer, squinting in an attempt to make out the shapes and shadows inside the room._

_Suddenly, a splash rang out in the silent night air, from the starboard side if she wasn’t mistaken. She swam closer to the hull of the ship, blending in to the shadows as she watched the man overboard bob and splash in the water. He was small, a child most likely, and he was beginning to lose his fight with the surface of the sea. ‘Hurry up!’ she thought, voices of the men on deck scrambling to put together a rescue._

_The boy disappeared from view, and a new, deeper voice rang out from up above. A moment later someone dove in after him. She waited, not realizing she had been holding her breath. The man came back up to the surface gasping for air, the boy was not with him. ‘Blast!’ Her father would tan her hide, but she couldn’t let the boy die._

_She dove under the surface, her powerful strokes bringing her to the sea floor in no time at all. Moonlight bled through the clear water, and she found the boy floating near the sandy bottom. He looked like an apparition, his heavy boots and coat had weighed him down._

_The man who had jumped in after him was about halfway down, the underside of a small rescue boat now evident on the surface above him. He swam efficiently, but he’d only had time to divest himself of his boots by the look of it, and he couldn’t see through the depths the way she could._

_She looped her arms under the boy’s shoulders, dragging him upward. It was no wonder he’d gone down, she thought, he weighed a bloody ton. She covered the distance to his rescuer, pushing the boy into his reaching arms. It was ‘him’, the leader, the captain. He was stunned, his eyes going wide and small air bubbles escaping the corner of his lips when he realized what had happened. She ducked and hid her face, but it was too late, he had seen her. Gods damn it, she cursed to herself._

_He still had quite a ways to drag the heavy boy up, so she grabbed his foot and propelled them through the water to the waiting boat above. He and the boy breached the surface with a mighty splash, he coughed and gasped for air as he helped the men push the boy over the edge of the dinghy._

_The men pushed on the young deckhand’s chest until he spewed seawater and coughed raggedly. Perseus spun around in the water, looking for the face that had saved their lives. “Hello?!” He called, over the ruckus of the men working on the boy and those shouting from above._

_She should swim away like her life depended on it, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear her gaze from him. Instead, she resurfaced under the stern, the jutting upper decks hiding her from the view of the men calling from the rigging. Up close, under only the light the moon afforded them, he was magnificent. She sank lower, the water coming up to the bridge of her nose. There was something about him that triggered raw emotion, a need that tugged inside her chest._

_He let go of the wooden side and swam toward her, and she was frozen, unable to flee. “Captain!” one of the men shouted from the small boat. “Perseus, come back!” His name was ‘Perseus’. A strong name, it fit him. He’d been brave to jump in after the boy, stupid, but brave._

_He stopped short, treading water just a few feet from her. “Thank you.” He called softly, his words meant only for her. She rose out of the water until it lapped at her collarbones, his body shielding her from the sight of the other men in the dinghy._

_“You’re welcome.” Her voice was delicate and sweet, and he swore he’d never heard one more appealing._

_“You speak.” He sounded shocked at the realization, but pressed on when she nodded. “Why? Why would you do that for the boy?”_

_The leather cord he’d had in his long hair earlier that day had come loose, and he looked like a drowned pup with it plastered against the side of his head. Even still, it didn’t diminish his masculine features and the pleasing way his shirt clung to his build in the water._

_She wasn’t sure where the courage came from, but the tug in her chest was ever present, pulling even harder. She closed the distance between them, and raised her small hand to run her fingertips along his cheekbone, down across his stubbled jaw to his surprisingly soft bottom lip. “Because he is a child, an innocent. You, on the other hand, I would pull down to the depths myself.”_

_The plump lip under her thumb curled into a grin, and she wore her own smile, her forehead leaning against his. He nuzzled his nose against hers and brushed their lips together. She should flee, he was a threat to her now. But for some strange reason, she didn’t care. She gave over control to whatever mischievous god on Mt. Olympus was laughing at her, they would get their way regardless. She chased him and he kissed her properly, his skin warm against hers, his rough fingers gentle on her jaw._

_Their lips parted hesitantly, each searching the other’s gaze for an explanation. He didn’t know who or ‘what’ she was, and yet she had saved the boy. He couldn’t explain it for shit, but he didn’t want to let her go. She was some kind of, ghost, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The thought of never seeing her again made his stomach tighten._

_“How - where are you from?” He had a thousand questions, but the sound of oars sluicing through the water behind them interrupted her answer. He turned and barked, “I’m fine, go back!” but it was too late. She had slipped under the water, her dark hair becoming blurry as she swam deeper. “No, fuck!” he plunged under after her, but it was no use._ ::

———

-Geralt-

The cast in the smaller boat rowed in the short distance to shore, Geralt and Yennefer each hitching a ride, their arms looped over each of it’s wooden sides. He plopped down on the beach with a wince, it had been a long ass day, er, night already. She pulled herself through the sand on her elbows, and her assistant ran over to help her. He would have, he was a gentleman after all, but the woman just rubbed him the wrong way.

She had been short with him the few times they’d spoken, and the press wouldn’t give up their “gold-digging” and “sleeping her way to the top” theories. He wasn’t one to judge based on rumor, but she wasn’t earning herself any points with him in the meantime.

Maybe they were true, she was sleeping with one of the producers and hadn’t attempted to hide it. And with the most unpleasant one he’d ever worked with, to top it off. It had worked to get her the role, but time would tell if she couldn’t hack the work. There was still time to get someone else to play goddess to his demigod.

“Ok everyone, that was great, the chemistry and the kiss was perfect. We’ve got some timing issues though, on the swimming. Geralt is getting to his marks faster than Yennefer, and you’ve got the tail hun so you need to look fast.”

Geralt sighed, and now her inexperience was costing him time and effort. “Fucking great.” He mumbled under his breath. Only a few feet down the beach, she whipped her head toward him and graced him with the nastiest look. She’d heard. Lovely.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.” She bit out.

“If you insist. _Fucking great_ , that’s what I said. It’s irritating to have to re-work these scenes when we should have been on point.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you saying this is _my_ fault?” She hissed.

God, she was juvenile, her demeanor was starting to piss him off. “Who else’s could it be? We’ve done the pacing for a competitive swimmer, if you’re not bringing that to the table, then yeah, it’s your fault.”

Jaskier inched closer, looking from one actor to the other, waiting for a gap in their argument to intervene.

Her amethyst eyes flashed like he had lit the torch for WWIII. “I’ve been swimming for seventeen hours, in a fucking tail! Excuse the hell out of me if I’m not perfectly _on point_!”

“So long as you’re the one admitting you’re unprofessional. I’m getting paid regardless of how many extra takes we have to run for you.” He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, his arms folding across his chest.

She went to fold her own, and suddenly remembered she was bare down to her navel. She huffed and yanked her wet hair forward to cover herself.

“No need to blush, I’ve seen more than my share of tits before.” Normally he would have let this go already, but something about her just pushed every last one of his buttons.

“Ugh! I’m sure you have, you manwhore!” Her voice was no longer quiet, they were both oblivious to the crowd of onlookers they had attracted.

Whoa, shots fired. _Good_. “I’d rather be that than a spoiled, uptight, bitch!” He barked, his lips curled in a sneer.

She rocked onto her hip in the sand and lunged for him, her hand flying wide for his face. Jaskier chose that moment to push in between them and pull her back, “Ah, ah, not the money maker Yenna.”

-Yennefer-

She let Jaskier haul her away, and set her down on a large sound equipment trunk. “Jaskier, I’m so sorry. He is an infant!” She shouted it loud enough for Geralt to hear over his shoulder, and he stuck his tongue out at her from his spot in the sand. Her eyes went wide with anger. That little fucker was lucky her legs weren’t free.

“Can you work with him Yenna? If you can’t, tell me now.”

He was serious, and rightly so, his job was on the line. Frankly, so was hers. “Yes, absolutely. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He smirked, “Don’t promise me what you can’t deliver, just promise me you’ll give me enough quality scenes to keep the show afloat between tearing each other apart.”

“Yes, of course.” She vowed. He held out his pinky, and she wrapped hers around it with a shake of her head. He was too nice, how had he not been eaten alive by this business?

“You need a break don’t you? Like hours ago, when I tried to send you home.” He rolled his eyes. “If we start fresh in the morning, your pacing will fall into place, won’t it?” He didn’t even wait for her response. “Wrap it for tonight folks, touch up shots in the am. Thank you!”

He turned to Geralt, “My office please.” She stuck her tongue out behind Jaskier’s back like he had done to her. Geralt scrunched up his face in mock horror.

“Good Christ, I’m so royally fucked.” Jaskier threw up his hands and walked toward his office, a smug looking Geralt in tow.

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “I’m here with Geralt Thornwald and Yennefer Giancardi, costars of the new HBO show, _Atlantis_. Thank you both for being here!”

Geralt: “Of course.” He replied with a handsome smile.

Yennefer: “Thank you for inviting us.” Her hand rested on her knee, legs crossed daintily. Her small foot wiggled nervously, and it was not lost on Geralt.

I: “Can you tell us anything about the show, any spoilers?”

G: “Well, you can expect a few mythical, fantasy aspects. That may or may not include Greek Gods, sirens, pirates, possibly a disappearing island.” He winked.

I: The interviewer fanned herself with a queue card at his wink. “That all sounds phenomenal! Can we expect a love story? Some steamy scenes maybe?”

Y: “I mean, I think we can say that, yes.” She gave a shy smile.

I: “Oooo I’m so excited! Now, you two have never worked together, correct? How do you feel your chemistry is flowing on set?”

G: He cleared his throat, vague diplomacy was needed here. “The casting director did a great job on this project, we have a great back and fourth.”

Y: She held back an undignified snort at his politically correct answer and gave her own. “I agree, every day I wonder what funny little anecdote he’ll come up with next.”

G: He grit his teeth and forced a smile.

Y: She licked her lips, a serene expression on her features.

I: Holy shit. They hate each other. This is going to be epic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Forgive my lack of knowledge on all these Hollywood things [I’m just making it all up.]. Some of these concepts and plot points in the show they’re filming are rip offs of the little mermaid, and I obviously stole names and concepts from greek lore - but I claim none and hope to use them with good intentions.  
> Thornwald was a Witcher from the school of the Wolf, and Molnar Giancardi is Yennefer’s banker in canon. :)
> 
> Please let myself and my partner in crime DarkGlowingLight (this was all her idea) know below if you’re interesting in seeing where this one goes. Pretty please and thank you :D


	2. Who's Side Are You On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you for hanging around for the second installment! [Ms Saboteur, DarkGlowingLight, nightattheroses, and Farbercynthia123] - Thank you so much for your encouraging comments, they pushed this update on! 
> 
> Who's Side Are You On, Tommee Profitt (feat. Ruelle)

:: _Athena sauntered into Poseidon’s throne room as though she owned it. Wrapped in luxurious silks, the ravishingly beautiful blonde helped herself to a goblet of his finest wine from a nearby side table. The man himself looked up from the unrolled maps spread on the massive dais._

_“I’ve no time for your bullshit today, she devil. Be on your way.” His long silver hair and massive frame gave clues as to his power. God of storms and the sea, his control over the earth was far reaching._

_She took a sip from the goblet, her lips a luscious shade of deep red. “Oh, but you do. Maybe you recall a small spat we had some decades ago? One in which I was the victor, and I left you with a little gift.”_

_“I remember, but I fail to see why you’re bringing it up, and why you’re on my island.” His tone was contemptuous._

_“Why, it’s about to start giving.” She beamed. “That which you hold most dear, will choose another before you, and cause you great, deep seated pain.” She shrugged her shoulders, “I came for a front row seat.”_

_He scoffed and returned his gaze to the maps._

_“Where is she?” Her mouth curled in a victorious smile._

_He grunted. “You’re wasting your time.”_

_She laughed out loud, her eyes shining with amusement. “She will bring you to your knees.”_ ::

\------

-Jaskier-

“Chills! I’ve got chills.” Jaskier beamed as Vesemir stepped down from the platform. “See you next week old man.”

“You will, runt!”

Like Geralt, Vesemir and Jaskier had worked together before. All of Jaskier’s projects were high quality, and an easy, enjoyable atmosphere. He found that actors thrived where they felt comfortable, in contrast to a strict, utilitarian setting.

His _Athena_ padded down to where he stood, leaning over a monitor, watching the playback of their better shots. His wife, Sabrina, wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and squeezed him affectionately.

He smiled, lifting his arm over her shoulder and pressing a warm kiss to the side of her face. “You, my dove, are the most exquisite goddess.”

“You’re damn right I am, don’t you forget it.” She murmured under her breath.

“Are you picking up Delilah early? I’ll be here late, beauty and the beast have their first sex scene later. Either the set’ll be burned to the ground or we’ll have a lawsuit on our hands. Neither bodes well for me getting home on time.”

“No problem hun, we’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, they’ll bring the scene together, I know they will.”

———

-Geralt-

“Can we call a truce for this scene? I would rather not long to ring your neck as I deflower you.”

They both sat in hair and makeup, their mirrors opposite each other. Vivid gold eyeshadow was layered on her lids as his hair was tossed and primped.

“I’m amenable to that, but I’m suspicious of your motives. How will I know when to resume guarding my neck when it’s over?” The man applying blush high on her cheek grinned.

“You don’t know this about me, but I’m actually a gentleman, and I’d rather not feel like scum thinking you were uncomfortable and too stubborn to voice it.” He gave the hairstylist a heart stopping grin in the mirror. “Besides, it’s a part of my immense charm.”

She tsked, “Just keep your little _charm_ off my leg and we’ll be fine.” Her makeup artist bit his lip to keep from laughing.

He huffed. “Listen, I’m only saying this because I’ve never “had” a virgin before. I don’t want Perseus to come off as a pedophile.”

“I’m twenty-two, it’s hardly a crime. And I’m not a blushing virgin, you idiot.”

He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Oh trust me, I know.”

She let that little dig go, she had to throw him a bone somewhere. “I can handle whatever you’re dishing out Thornwald.” The finishing touches were completed on Eirene’s look - soft and innocent, yet the proud young goddess she was. She slid down from the chair and walked past the mirrors, ducking a cloud of hairspray.

He relented, “Fair enough. I’ll give you a little pinch when it’s _time_ , but please, speak up if you need a change of pace.”

She gave him a soft smile, the first one she’d ever graced him with off camera. “Thank you, that’s very chivalrous of you.” She turned to the older woman who was running a comb through his hair. “Not too much product in it please, I need to be able to dig my fingers in there and really _yank_.” She sashayed away from his eye roll without a second thought.

———

:: _Perseus cranked open one of the large stained glass windows in his cabin, filling his chest with a breath of fresh sea air. The sun was setting and his crew was down on the mess deck, the only other soul unoccupied by their dinner was Marcellus, his young apprentice. The eager fourteen year old deck hand manned the crow’s nest during their evening meal, and was fully aware of her visits._

_He had seen her, the night he fell overboard. She was the reason he had leaned too far over the railing. Perseus had sworn him to secrecy regarding her existence, and the boy had been grateful and all too excited to hold his captain’s treasured secret for the past few weeks._

_He tied a white chemise to one of the lower rungs of the rope ladder, and tossed it down to the sea below. He hung out over the ledge, and like clockwork her dark head appeared on the surface. Gone was her tail, and in it’s place a pair of long, tanned legs. He was astounded when she had explained that the transition between the two was effortless for her, as involuntary as a sneeze or shiver._

_She slipped the light garment over her head and climbed up the rope. He had rifled through that trunk of women’s clothing they had happened upon as started putting them on her. He couldn’t get to know her like he wanted to if she was sitting on his bed nude, he was no saint._

_Coincidentally, they shared a common love for books, nature, and the sea that keep them talking for hours. He was fascinated to learn about her life, and she his. They whispered, laughed and stole kisses until dawn would approach, and she would slip back into the water as though she had been a figment of his imagination._

_That night was different somehow, because when she reached the window and he lifted her inside, her eyes were bright with hunger. The thin shift wasn’t the best choice, as it simply clung to her dripping wet body and accented her toned frame and soft curves. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands never having left her waist. He kissed her, drips of seawater salty on her lips._

_When they parted, the desire in his eyes matched hers. She chased his lower lip, pinning it between her teeth gently. She wove her slender fingers into the long hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands tightened on her waist as she nipped him, then soothed the sting with her tongue._

_“Perseus.” She whispered._

_“Hmmmmm” She felt the vibrations from his chest through her damp gown. Her wet hair soaked down her back and dripped onto his boots._

_“Touch me.”_

_He pinched his golden eyes shut and bit back a groan at her words. His broad hand traced up her side and cupped her breast, his touch feather light. She whimpered, leaning into his warm hand. He groaned into her curls, his thumb dancing across her nipple, hardened through the thin white cotton._

_His voice was rough, even deeper than it’s normal low pitch. “Eirene, are you sure? You can’t go back.”_

_She brought one of her hands down from his nape, trailed her fingertips from his Adam’s apple to his sternum. Lower she went, over the dips and inclines of his abdominals before weaving behind the hem of his shirt to sneak past the waistband of his breeches. She flipped her dainty hand and pressed her palm to his skin, inching it lower until it disappeared. The muscles in his chest contracted at his swift intake of air._

_“I’m sure.”_

_Something inside him snapped. His hands were everywhere at once, one on her jaw, holding her close as his tongue surged forward to meet hers. She pulled at his shirt and he yanked it over his head, shucking off his boots as she worked the buttons on his pants, their mouths frantic for each other._

_He broke free to bend and gather the chemise, running his hands up her thighs and hoisting her into the air. She squealed, clutching his bare shoulders as he walked her over to his bed. It was bolted to the floor, as most of the furniture in the cabin was, but it was large enough, the bedding clean and soft. He set her down on the edge, leaned close and pushed the gown over her shoulders and off._

_He took a moment to appreciate the vision she created, flushed from her navel to her chin, arms splayed wide and waiting for him. Her pupils were blown wide with desire, much like his own, but her expression was all love and trust._

_“So beautiful,” he murmured, the rough pads of his fingers running over her smooth skin. She reached up and cradled his face as he reached down between their bodies. He braced his other arm near her face, pressed a sweet kiss to her temple before the muscles in his back rolled and she cried out._

_He froze, jaw clenched in concentration, waiting for her pain to ease. She brought her knees up higher around his hips and squeezed his shoulders. His lips found hers and he rolled his hips, the next sound leaving her lips a gasp of pleasure._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

“Ok, well, that was almost uncomfortably hot and exactly what we needed.” Jaskier pulled at the tight collar of his polo shirt. “Let’s take a half an hour break and see if we can’t bang out the afterglow scene. Pun intended. Thank you all!”

Geralt and Yennefer both moved to untangle themselves from each other at the same time, bumping his chin on the top of her head. She hissed in pain and he grumbled a curse, climbing off of her and striding toward his assistant, gingerly rotating his jaw in annoyance. Salma brought her a robe, and chattered in her ear about something or other.

He seemed extra grumpy - was he pissed at her? Had she gone too far in the scene? It _was_ her first try, maybe she had crossed some acting faux pas line. She worried about it for a few moments before deciding it wasn’t her problem. If he had issues, he’d have to communicate them to Jaskier or herself, she wasn’t going to run around after his broody moods.

He disappeared into his trailer, shutting the door hard behind him and throwing the lock. She _had_ done something wrong. She had been taken aback filming the scene, and it had thrown off her 'stone cold' game. He behaved the beast, but he certainly didn’t feel like one. Nor did he look it, biceps flexing near her face, his own contorted in pleasure above her.

She approached her own trailer. Acting. The man was a seasoned _actor_. Whatever, Jaskier would tell her if she needed to change something. She closed the door behind her and decided she _would_ change something…her panties.

———

:: _She sat between his thick thighs, his back pressed against the carved mahogany headboard. A fine sheen of sweat covered them both, the bedding wrapped around her at the waist. Both of his big hands spanned wide across her bare back as they kissed leisurely, their breathing returning to a more normal pace._

_She leaned close to his warm chest, both to ward off the chill from the open window and to feel his skin against hers. She leaned her forehead against his. “Is it always…like that?” She asked, her voice betraying her naivety._

_He took a deep breath before answering. “No. It has been physical, lust.”_

_Her brow furrowed. Was she not desirable like other women? “And now? The difference?"_

_He brought her hand tight against his ribcage, over his heart. “This is where it comes from now.” She bent to brush her lips across his knuckles, and he guided her back up to his lips._

_“I think the gods made you just for me, my siren princess.”_

_“I am, a princess.” She waited a moment for him to accept what she revealed. They had shared stories about each other’s lives and upbringings, but she had neglected to tell him that she was actually the daughter of Poseidon himself._

_“Who -“ he cleared his throat, “what, exactly are you a princess of?” He knew she was divine, not human - she had a damn tail. She had older sisters, she lived on an island that disappeared and reappeared, but now he feared he may have put her in danger with their reckless behavior._

_“Poseidon. I -“_

_He swallowed hard. _Fuck._ Poseidon was not a forgiving god, he had likely signed his own death warrant the moment he touched her. _

_He pulled her forward and kissed her forehead. “Worth it.” He whispered. She looked back at him, her expression confused. “Your father doesn’t speak to Hades often these days does he?”_

_She huffed and rolled her eyes to the heavens. “He won’t hurt you. He doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him. You’re not going there anyway, the Elysian Fields will be your home in the afterlife.” She gathered a small bundle of his long hair at the base of his head and began to braid it intricately._

_“I’ve done nothing redeemable with my life, what makes you say that?” He reached and handed her a small piece of cord from the adjacent desk. His hands ran up and down her sides slowly as she worked._

_“That’s a lie. You’re intelligent and kind, the boy looks up to you. And you’ve a lot of years left to make your mark on this word, don’t count yourself out.” She secured the small plait and brushed it into his thick hair._

_A harsh knock sounded on the door and he shouted back to his first mate. There had been a small fire in one of the holds and the men were arguing over which one of them was at fault._

_“I need to see to this, but you can stay in here, I’ll be back.”_

_She shook her head, she needed to return to the island before morning. Her father had asked to see her. Their lips met in a tender kiss before he began tugging his breeches back on._

_She climbed up in the window sill, not a stitch of clothing on. She bypassed the rope ladder and simply leaned backwards, her feet leaving the sill in a graceful free-fall. He saw her disappear from the corner of his eye and raced to the window, eyes wide with concern. He looked down just in time to see her slice through the water, her body taunt and posed, the surface barely disturbed._ ::

———

Jaskier cupped his hands like a megaphone to be heard over the water on the beach. “Cut! I wanted to weep, ralph, and run away from the sweetness. Perfect. When Yennefer is in the window frame, can we pull the footage from 2 and 4? I don’t know yet which angles I’m going to like best that won’t include her torso. See you beautiful people tomorrow, thank you!”

———

-Geralt-

The black stretch limousine pulled up to the trendy condo complex. While the crew filmed in France, the production company had rented lavish condominiums for the cast. A few of the cast and crew were attending a publicity event that evening for the series, and they expected to be greeted by the full force of the French media when they arrived.

Jaskier and Sabrina were the first to appear in the lobby and climb into the limo, some of the other cast members were watching their three month old daughter, Delilah. Sabrina wore a beautiful gown, a black lace bodice and an emerald green satin skirt which gave her a little extra post-baby room, but an onlooker would never know a thing.

Geralt and his date were next, a stunning blonde in a low cut, formfitting red gown. An international model, Keira Metz was a catch, and she happened to be shooting near by. She and Geralt saw each other when it was convenient, and she jumped at the chance to spend an evening with him laden with her favorite thing, press.

Yennefer was the last to depart, hurrying across the lobby, her arms full. Her gown was a breathtaking champagne number covered in black lace. It dipped low in the front, flattering her cleavage and even lower in the back showing off her flawless golden skin. The mermaid style cut flared at her hips and led down to a lace laden train that was currently bunched up over her arm.

She bent to climb inside and Geralt took pity on her. He held out his hands for her silk wrap, her clutch, her heels, and then the bottom of her dress as she slid across the leather seat. “Thank you.” She murmured, leaning forward to put her shoes on as the driver shut the door. The were to pick up Cahir last, as he owned a flat rather than staying with the rest of them.

Sabrina was the farthest away, but the first to greet her warmly. “Yenna!” She waved, “Is that the gown from your mother?” Yennefer grinned and nodded excitedly. “Oh, girl, it is phenomenal. She got your measurements perfect too. Cahir’s jaw will be on the floor!”

Keira and Yennefer were introduced, and not long after the limo pulled to a stop to pickup it’s last occupant. The door swung wide and he tossed his suit jacket in without looking, the heavy fabric hitting Yennefer in the face. He barked an order at the driver and plopped down in the seat next to her. Instead of a hug or a kiss in greeting, he put his hand high on her thigh and began talking to Jaskier from across the cabin.

Yennefer’s face flamed in embarrassment at his rude behavior. He was their boss, and he never let them forget it. She had nowhere else to put his suit coat other than hold it in her lap, and Geralt still held her wrap and her small purse. “It’s fine.” He whispered, and struck up a conversation with Keira. Yennefer drove him nuts, but he couldn’t understand why Cahir insisted on being such an ass all the time. He had pulled similar shit with the last young actress he chewed up and spit out.

“He hasn’t changed much.” Keira muttered under her breath. Geralt nodded in agreement.

The hand on her thigh tried to travel higher and he seemed annoyed that he couldn’t grope her any further, regardless of who was watching. Cahir seemed to finally take notice of her dress. “Is that really what you’re wearing? I thought I recommended something chic? Like Keira’s dress, show some leg next time for Christ’s sake.”

The limo was silent. Geralt could tell Sabrina felt especially bad for Yennefer, after she’d made the comment about how wonderful his reaction would be. She tried to ease the sting of his asinine comment. “Yenna, did you survive filming the cabin scenes this week or did Jaskier make you feel horribly uncomfortable? The first scene like that I shot years ago, he made kissing noises from the adjacent set the entire time. I simply could not stop laughing, that poor actor. I forget who it even was as the time.”

Geralt cleared his throat, his rough baritone easing some of the tension. “I feel bad for that poor fool, mostly because it was me.” Laugher erupted and Geralt gave Yennefer's knee a quick squeeze. He might want to throttle her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to lose his sparring partner. No actress had given his shit back to him so forcefully in years, he wasn’t about to sit idly by and watch that fire get worn down and snuffed out.

———

-Yennefer-

Lights flashed and cameras clicked as they made their way down the red carpet in front of the venue. Geralt and Keira went first, their recognizable fame made them the darlings of the hour. French press lined the velvet rope and fans crowded behind it, shouting for autographs and photos. They made a truly gorgeous couple, both of them seemingly made for the camera.

Jaskier and Sabrina followed, many of the news outlets inquiring about their daughter and how parenthood was treating them. A few of the crew were in attendance as well, some with ear pieces, serving as extra bodies and security.

Chireadan stood behind Yennefer, who ended up walking alone, as Cahir had ducked away to work on a potential investor he had spotted. Walking in front of the firing squad alone as a new actress was bad enough, but she didn’t speak French, so that made it all the more complicated. She was grateful for his comforting presence.

A well dressed man with a microphone stepped forward quickly and intercepted her. 

Interviewer: “Yennefer! Raphael from L’Équipe, how are you handling such a key role in this series without having had much experience in the acting world? You look stunning by the way, who are you wearing?”

Y: “Thank you so much. A local seamstress in London, mother actually sent me this.” Color rose on her cheeks. “It’s been wonderful so far, the entire cast and crew has welcomed me and I’m so grateful!”

I: “That is so sweet. How has your experience been working with Geralt Thornwald, he’s somewhat of a legend in historical dramas like this one.”

Y: “I am learning so much from him and the rest of the cast. Our director is simply wonderful as well. The support here is like that of a family, and I wouldn’t want to be learning with any other group of professionals.”

I: “Thank you Yennefer, good luck this season!”

She made to move to the next camera set up and someone yelled out from behind the rope, “Yennefer, is it true you got this role by sleeping with a producer?!”

She whipped toward the voice but the coward had faded into the crowd. A woman with thick glasses leaned close. 

I:”Yennefer! Mandie from TMC, is there any truth to that? Can you speak to your relationship with Cahir Ceallach? You two have been spotted around Marseille numerous times in the past few weeks.”

Chireadan moved to push her along, she didn’t have to answer anything she was uncomfortable with. “It’s alright, thank you.” She gave him an appreciative smile.

Y: “Cahir and I began seeing each other three weeks _after_ casting was complete for the show. He’s here this evening, around somewhere, please feel free to approach him about it - you wouldn’t be the first. Thank you.”

She tried to move on, but the determined reporter hung tight with her.

I: “What about the age difference, he’s thirty-six to your twenty-two, do you have reservations about that?”

Y: “If I did, I suppose I wouldn’t be dating him? Thanks for your time.”

She felt sick to her stomach. Sabrina looked back and caught the look on her face.

“Come here doll, walk with us. Jaskier just got asked about anamorphic imaging, he’ll be lost to me for the next twenty minutes at least.”

Thank god for kind souls, she thought as she joined them, all smiles.

———  
-The Next Week-

Yennefer laid on her back against the warm white sand, the sun in her eyes and the waves kissing her ankles. He leaned close, the sun obscuring his face before he settled his thigh on the other side of hers, his weight on her sparking heat low in her core. He untied her bikini top to feast on her breasts, her hands in his hair urging him closer, her little gasps swallowed up by the surf.

He worked his way down her flat stomach, his big, warm hands running up her thighs. He pulled down her bottoms and the sun glinted over his face before he settled between her legs, his skilled mouth wringing moans past her lips.

He paused and mumbled something against the sensitive skin on her inner thigh. “What?” she whispered, her breaths coming fast. He was saying something “up”. “Hmmm?” she leaned on her elbows.

“Wake up!”

———

She jolted up off of the sofa in the set break room, her chest heaving with the shock of being torn from her dream. Jaskier leaned over her, a worried expression on his face.

“You were whimpering, are you okay?”

Geralt strode by and snarked, “Of course she is, it’s fun for her to make us wait and waste my time.”

She sat upright, “Anything to piss you off.”

“Thank you Jaskier, I’m alright.” She rolled her eyes, “What a jerk.” She stood up and straightened the robe she wore in between takes.

“Whatever you say harpy!”

Jaskier made a hasty exit, as there were far too many things that could be thrown in that room for his peace of mind.

“Why don’t you spend less time worrying about what I’m doing and worry about your own ass!” One hand perched on her hip and the other gestured wildly in the air.

“I don’t need to, when you’re doing enough thinking about my ass for the both of us! Oh! There it is, the _can I speak to the manager_ face! Brutal!”

She stepped closer. “You’re going to wish there was manager to save you if you keep pushing me Thornwald.”

He closed the rest of the distance between them, their faces only inches apart. “Bring it Giancardi.” He broke their standoff and stalked out of the room, a grin splitting his face once she could no longer see.

She swore and pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe, bringing up a google search. _What does it mean, sex dream about someone you hate._

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “I’m here again with the lovely costars from HBO’s _Atlantis_ , Geralt and Yennefer, thank you both for meeting with me!”

Yennefer smiled and Geralt nodded.

I: “So, I’ve had the pleasure of seeing the first few episodes along with the world and I would like to say, wow! Just wow. The quality of the show is first rate, and your performances were just wonderful. I have to ask Yennefer, that tail! How are you managing all that swimming and is it comfortable?”

Y: “Some days are more challenging than others,” gives Geralt the side eye, “but on the whole I love it. I love being in the pool, in this case mostly the Mediterranean, and this role is a dream for me to have landed. The tail itself isn’t bad, but we have these clear plastic straps to hold my legs together inside it, those hurt after a few hours. We have an awesome guy on the crew, his name is Chireadan, and he’s been a godsend. He’s had to carry me around from set to set so we don’t have untie and unstrap everything. He’s been amazing.”

I: “Being a beautiful siren has it’s challenges! Geralt, you’re famous for doing your own stunts and you really have a keen eye for fight choreography; will we be seeing some of that in this season?”

G: “Thank you very much, I love doing the stunts when I can. I can’t say specifically, but on the whole yes, in fact the next few weeks we will be leaning heavy on precisely detailed choreography and action scenes.”

I: “Rumor has it they’re bringing in your brother for that?”

G: “Yes, no nepotism here.” He smirked. “But yes, Eskel specializes in what we’re looking to do, the imagery and flow Jaskier is looking for as well.”

I: “One last question before I let you both go. So we saw Perseus and Eirene have a few steamy scenes, how did that go? Especially for you Yennefer, being newer to the industry?”

Y: “Um, well, it went fine, Geralt is a gentlemen and a professional and I don’t think we had any major issues that I was aware of. Our crew is amazing and they helped us keep it relaxed on set.”

I: “But, is he a good kisser? I think I’d get some hate tweets if I didn’t ask.”

Y: “Oh my gosh, I hope not!” She chuckled. “Um actually terrible, it was really just slobbery, and - no, Geralt is wonderful at kissing, of course. I mean, any actor who is just respectful and polite…fine, yes, he’s good.”

I: “Well Geralt, don’t open your social media for a few days my friend.”

G: “Not a problem, thanks for the head’s up.” He smiled.

-Yennefer-

They wrapped up the interview and the bright lights turned off. They both walked to the freight elevator, headed down to the parking garage.

“Well, that was relatively painless.” She commented.

He grunted, “Because they didn’t ask me how _you_ are at kissing.”

“You know, why did I think we could just be normal people. You have to be such an ass!”

They reached the garage level and he pulled the grate so they could walk into the lot. She had Cahir’s keys, he had worked from his flat that day so she’d taken his car.

Geralt pulled the helmet off of the back of his motorcycle and put it on. “We can’t be normal people, because there’s nothing normal about you Yennefer.”

Her huff was drowned out as the bike roared to life, echoing through the concrete structure. She flipped him off, but he waited to pull away until she was in the car and it started up.

She watched him turn and disappear out of the lot before putting the car in gear. She was just going to have to ignore the man’s existence, because this bickering thing, and today, that fucking dream, were not okay. She would go insane before the first season was filmed, and they were contracted for at least four.

Fuck. She was so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Their banter on set regarding the sex scenes would be highly inappropriate in a professional, real setting, but it’s more fun this way!


	3. Where We Come Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer's mother visits the set, and the casts films with furry friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where We Come Alive, Ruelle

:: _“Eirene! I saw you child, get in here this instant!” Poseidon pounded his fist on the podium in an effort to scare some speed into her feet. She was willfull, stubborn, and determined, quite used to getting her way. He was careful to not to show it in front of his other daughters, nor his son - but she was his pride and joy. The most humble, intelligent and resourceful of the children he had with his late wife._

_Amphitrite had died tragically, as she gave birth to Eirene, and because of that her siblings had treated her coldly. They blamed her, however irrationally, for the death for their mother. Eirene's two sisters were shallow and vein, traits which ran rampant amoung deities. Triton was cocky, and as Poseidon’s firstborn male, he had little time for an errant younger sister who was too smart for her own good._

_She returned to the entrance of the great hall and picked her way through those milling about. All were divine in some form or another, her sisters sat high on the platform, their respective husbands at their sides._

_“Poseidon. How can I be of service today.” She bowed low in the breeches and tunic she wore, determined not to refer to him as father solely to spark his ire. She had seemed an independent woman form the age of five, and he chose his battles with her wisely._

_“Child, must you always don those rags? Is there not a trunk full of finery in your rooms so that you may look the part of a proper princess. One poised to take her place next to her father and her husband on this council?”_

_Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m sorry to be a disappointment, but I don’t have any intention of taking a husband merely to suit some outdated ideal that I need one. I need some brainless pile of muscle to stand next to me like I need a hole in the head.”_

_He stepped down and stopped in front of her, speaking in a low tone. “Eirene. Please, stop this stubborn defiance. I want you to take your rightful place at my side, under my protection.” He embraced her, speaking against her ear. “I value your input daughter, I need your help. Conflict stirs between the gods and the humans, and I would have your opinions when I make my own.”_

_Her surprise was twofold, to learn of the conflict and to hear that he genuinely sought her aide. “What can I do?”_

_“Stay on the island more often, remain close by. Attend the ball.” She balked and he countered, “To show the others a unified front. If you should find a husband, fine, but I won’t push you.”_

_He pressed a kiss to her forehead._

_“I’ll be there.”_ ::

———

-Yennefer-

“Mom!” As soon as Jaskier had called the scene to an end, she raced from Vesemir’s arms and across the sound stage into her mother’s. Calanthe Giancardi was a force to be reckoned with, and she had driven from London to visit her daughter and see what it was like on set for her. 

A pediatrician in a successful practice, Calanthe had been weary of her daughter’s chosen career path, but had been supportive of her. She had arrived on set during her scene with Vesemir, and she had to hand it to her - Yennefer had talent. She seemed at ease with the multitude of people and equipment everywhere, and Calanthe could tell a significant amount about the character she was portraying solely from the performance she just watched. 

Yennefer leaned out of her arms. “You arrived early! I’ve one more scene and then we can go to lunch if you’d like. Cahir made reservations for us at Bien Etre et Petit Plat, it’s wonderful there.” 

“Your father sent me with some of your Cannelés, but if we dine out there’ll be more for you to keep. He wanted to come, but Pavetta had her drama recital. She sends her love, and a book - I left it in your trailer.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Yennefer smiled brightly. “Here, let me introduce to you to the director.” 

Calanthe stopped her. “I just want to say honey, that I saw you just now, and you were wonderful. I know I fought this, but I think you chose the right path. I’m so proud of you.” 

Geralt walked by with his assistant before she could respond. “Mom, this is Geralt Thornwald and his assistant Graham. This is my mother, Calanthe Giancardi, be nice Geralt.” 

“Despite what your daughter may tell you, I’m glad to meet you. She is a pleasure to work with, and now I see where she gets her stunning good looks from.” He smiled, his assistant taking his phone.

“I bet you say that to all the mothers. My daughter has told me nothing about you, so either you’re dull, or she hasn’t yet made up her mind.” 

Surprise flashed across his face, but it was soon replaced by another stunning smile. “I see Yennefer’s gift for being frank is inherited as well. I hope you’ll visit for a long while, my wits can use a rest and I think you may be the only one able to truly keep up with her.”

Someone shouted and the crew began setting up for the next scene. “We need to go, but I’m so glad you’re here.” She gave her another hug. “We’ll be in the captain’s quarters, Perseus’s cabin, around the corner there if you want to watch.” 

“Oh, I’ll be watching, you can count on it. I have a feeling our little Eirene is going to make me glad I didn’t bring your father.” Yennefer blushed a bit, but fell into step beside Geralt as they headed towards the set.

“I like her, she has your viper’s tongue and yet she’s never tried to hit me.” He held the door to the costume department open, and she entered underneath his outstretched arm. 

“My mother is an excellent judge of character. Give her a few hours, that first blow will come.”

———

:: _Perseus wound the thin linen around her chest, his brow furrowed. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” He smoothed the fabric around her back and tied the end, tucking it between her breasts. She stretched her arms high._

_“Much better than when I wrap it myself.” She smiled and pulled him close for a sweet kiss. “It makes it easier. I blend in, no one is left chasing after a mystery woman. And today, I am just my captain’s new deck hand.” She wrapped his leather belt low around his waist. “Available at his beck and call, eager to serve his whims.” She slid his pistol behind the belt, against his hip._

_He growled softly in warning. “If you want to leave this cabin before the sun goes down woman…”_ ::

———

:: _They wove through the bustling marketplace, children and animals skittering around underfoot. His crew had fanned out, some reuniting with family and others spending their pilfered gains on new weapons and gifts. The brothel would be flush with their coin by morning._

_The small pair of boots he had given her to wear gave her just a bit of height, but still, she looked like a slender version of Marcellus if one was none the wiser. Her breeches and linen shirt were baggy, her bountiful hair tucked up in a wool cap. She kept her face down, as there wasn’t much she could do to hide her delicate features and bright eyes, save the smudges of dirt Marcellus had added, trying to be helpful._

_She had her eye on the small bookshop, he knew she would want to head there first, but he convinced them both that they would take care of his business at the blacksmith rather than carry the pile of books he promised her._

_Marcellus told her that the blacksmith, Icarus, stabled Perseus’s prized Arabians while they were out at sea. They were a beautiful pair, and he was anxious to run them. She let him reacquaint himself with his beasts, Marcellus hanging on his every word._

_She stepped back into the smith’s work room, his forge was impressive for such a small village and she wondered if Perseus’s coin had something to do with that. The dagger he always wore at his hip was skillfully worked, likely in the very room in which she stood. She admired the different tools and irons carefully stowed on the walls, until the Icarus cleared his throat behind her._

_“It is a shame to cover such beauty.”_

_She froze, and tried to summon the deepest tone she could. “How so?” She pretended to be fascinated with a blade he must have been crafting on the wooden bench so she didn’t have to face him._

_“A cap and the clothes of a boy do little to disguise your presence from a keen observer. Don’t worry, your deception is safe with me.”_

_She turned, “Thank you.” He was handsome, and obviously skilled at his trade. He would make some woman a fine husband if he hadn’t already._

_She stepped outside, taking a thorough, cleansing breath and making her way back over toward the stables. Perseus approached her and she leaned back into his embrace, the only two around already knowing her secret. “Ride with me? You can sit with me in the saddle, it won’t be dangerous.”_

_“I would love to ride with you, but on the other horse, no saddle.” The corner of her mouth tipped up at his confused expression. She turned and leaned her lips close to his ear, “My father is the God of horses captain, I think I shall fare safely on my own.”_

_He could scarcely catch up to her. She rode even more skillfully that he, as though she and the thoroughbred she had just met were one creature. Her cap had flown off rounding the first bend, and her dark curls soared behind her like a pennant, teasing him to catch up to her. Over the rolling hills beyond the village they flew, the sound of their laughter and jests lost in the uninhabited countryside._

_She coaxed the mare up and over a fallen tree he would have thought twice about jumping, and his heart leapt into his throat at the sight. They eased both horses to a trot shortly after, and dismounted near a creek to let them drink and rest._

_She fought to catch her breath beneath the bindings, but she gifted him with a dazzling smile. “She is a wonderful horse Perseus, what name have you given her?”_

_She tugged off her boots and stepped into the shallows, the brisk water causing her to shiver. He shrugged, pulling off his own boots and joining her. “Horse. I just call them both Horse.”_

_She tsked, plopping down on the smooth gravel bank, her feet still in the stream. “That’s just awful. I’ll name them for you, I just need to think.” Their horses drank leisurely a few feet away as she laid back, the canopy of trees above shading them from the hot sun._

_He sat down next to her, his face freshly washed in the chilled water. “I won’t distract you then, think away.” He nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed his way across her jaw, covering her mouth with his. She pushed her tongue past his, arching into his arms with a moan as he slid over her and straddled her hips._

_She broke her lips free as his hands ran up and down her sides, his lips chasing hers again. “You’re distracting me.” She complained, but the heady tone of her voice betrayed her words. She reached between them and palmed him through his breeches. He grunted and rolled them so she was on top of him, the pebbles digging into his own back instead of hers._

_She reached down between them, fumbling with the buttons on her breeches while he unbuttoned his own. She braced her arm against his shoulder and gasped when her hips met his. She moved over him at a slow place, her curls brushing his face as they kissed, each partially breathing for the other._ ::

———

:: _She laid on his chest, her breaths still coming in rapid pants, broad hands still tight on her hips. They kissed languidly, her fingers running over his shoulders and weaving into his hair. “Oh, Tristan!”_

_He froze, watching her from below with a confused expression._

_“Tristan and Isolde. Your horses.” She smiled, kissing his jaw._

_“Our horses.” He nudged her nose with his and sealed their lips._ ::

———

-Geralt-

Geralt acquainted himself with the horse he would be riding for the next week or two. A handsome, jet black Arabian stallion. Yennefer was a stronger swimmer than he by far, but he would finally have the environmental advantage when it came to the equestrian parts of the shoot. He had ridden all his life, and he seemed to have a gift with them.

He heard footsteps approach from behind, and it seemed she had the same idea he did. Yennefer walked to the stall across from his and greeted the pair of mares. There were four horses in total, ensuring that filming would continue in the event there was an illness or injury. 

“Let me guess, scared of horses?” He offered when he noticed she stood back reading her copy of the script. She pinned her finger where she left off and eyed him over the packet, one eyebrow lifting in interest. 

“Maybe. Care to wager on it?” Her tone was disinterested, yet she offered the challenge. 

It was probably a mistake, but he was great with the animals. He couldn’t resist. “Sushi. You almost fall off that horse at least once and you buy me sushi.”

She lowered the script completely and stood in front of him. “If, under some miracle, I am able to keep upright through shooting, then I win. And you give me what every woman wants.” 

“Yennefer,” he leaned on the stall door with a smirk, “you could have just asked.” 

She stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear. “Chocolate, you pompous oaf.” She pushed away from his chest. “And the good stuff, I wanna try the Le Grand Louis XVI.”

“Fine by me. It won’t matter anyway, you’ll be too busy buying my spicy shrimp to worry about the chocolate you lost.” 

“Geralt, I hate to break it to you, but I might be the only woman on the planet not interested in your little spicy shrimp.”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound from somewhere in the bottom of his chest. She shrugged, and lowered her head once again to her script, lips pursed to hold back her smile. 

———

He had to order the chocolates. 

The next day they began filming at the stable, and she slid her boot into the stirrup and took off riding, her back straight and posture nearly perfect. Her mother laughed out loud from behind Jaskier at the look on his face, Yennefer must have told her about their little bet. Calanthe cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted, “Six years of competitions Thornwald!” He gave her a little wave and she laughed even harder when she read the muttered “Fuck” on his lips. 

That evening they wrapped filming just before sunset, and Cahir and Yennefer went for a quick ride together. He looked wholly uncomfortable on the animal, hanging onto the reins and pommel with a vice grip and sliding all over the saddle.

Geralt handed his horse over to their handlers, patting him on the neck for a job well done. Yennefer’s mother approached him and complimented him on his horsemanship, it must have been a rare thing to find two actors so skilled and confident working with the large animals. She turned to watch Cahir and her daughter ride toward the tree line, his body shifting as though the horse was a bronco. 

“What do you think of that man?” She tilted her head watching them. 

Geralt handed the antique pistol and dagger to the prop master. “Do you want my honest opinion, or what she would want me to tell you.” 

“Damn. I feared as much. My stomach has been in knots since I met the man yesterday. I don’t know why she thinks she has to put up with his attitude.” She rifled around in her purse, and pulled out a business card. The front advertised her exclusive pediatric practice, and she pulled out a pen and scrawled her personal cell number on the back. 

He looked confused when she handed it to him. “Keep this please. If there’s something I should know, if he…just call me. Please.” 

“Oh,” he hesitated, “I don’t, I wouldn’t know what is happening in her personal life. I’m sorry.” He tried to hand it back to her. 

“You have eyeballs Thornwald. If that man hurts my baby, I need to know about it.”

“Why me? We hate each other.” 

She snorted. “My daughter doesn’t tell me shit about him, but somehow I know that you have a red motorcycle, and you only date models, and you hair does some thing where it falls in your face just so. Sounds like mortal enemies to me.” 

"I thought you said she didn't tell you a word about me?"

"I lied. I had to see what kind of man you were before I went spilling her secrets in front of you." She turned to go. “Just use the number if you need to. If you don’t have the balls, give it to someone who does.” 

———

:: _They rode back to the village together, her mare, now ‘Isolde’ trailing behind them. She leaned back against his chest, his long arms banded around her holding the reins._

_“There’s a ball, an annual masquerade, on the island. My father insists that I attend this year, according to him I have gone too long without binding myself to a man. Will you go with me?”_

_He was quiet for longer than she expected. “It doesn’t sound like you’re supposed to bring someone, but find someone.”_

_She twisted to face him. “What?” she whispered._

_He swallowed thickly. “What if, you’re supposed to meet someone. A fitting match for a goddess.” A man that fate had chosen for her, a god._

_“No. I have no interest in meeting any god.” Her gaze fell. “Are you telling me, you want me to be with someone else?” They where nearing the stables._

_“If that’s what’s best for you.”_

_She threw her leg over the saddle’s pommel and slid to the ground, her boots thumping with her anger._

_“Eirene!” He called, trying to keep his voice down so that they wouldn’t be overheard and her disguise in vain._

_She mumbled a thank you and took her cap from Marcellus’s hands as she hurried by, surprise evident on his face. She nodded to the blacksmith and strode back through the shop and out into the bustling street. He called for her again, dismounting and handing the horses off to Icarus, but by the time he reached the main street she had blended into the crowd and disappeared._ ::

———

:: _The sun was beginning to set by the time she slipped back into the blacksmith’s shop. Icarus looked up from from a heavy chain he hammered, sparks flying in every direction. She motioned to a small linen bag she held, “If it’s ok, I brought a few apples for the horses. I always give one whenever I ride, it’s a bit of a superstition and I neglected to this afternoon. May I go back?”_

_“Of course, take your time in the stables.” He paused, setting down the hammer and pulling off this thick leather gloves. “I noticed your hasty retreat earlier today. It’s happened before, he doesn’t keep any of his ladies around for too long. So it’s no reflection on you, he is just a drifter when it comes to women. I’ll even be so bold as to say you’re lovely, and if I never get the pleasure of your company again, it was an honor to meet you miss.”_

_The bindings around her chest were too tight all of a sudden, and her stomach felt like it might rebel. She waved her thanks and darted from the shop. As soon as she pulled the stable door closed behind her she covered her mouth to stifle a sob._

_She leaned heavy on the door. Had she meant anything to him? In hindsight, she had been easy prey. And now he would be glad to be rid of her to any random deity who showed up at her father’s party. Her father - he would be so disappointed in her for openly defying him and being a poor judge of character in whom she trusted._

_She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, dabbing at the corders of her eyes. Gods damnit, she wasn’t defeated yet. So she’d made a bad choice. Her heart would heal. Until then, any thoughts of that man would be pity and ambivalence._

_She stepped closer to the horse she’d ridden that afternoon, and the mare seemed to recognize her, coming close to nudge her shoulder. She held out an apple when the door behind her opened. Icarus walked close and held out a small steel cuff, hammered and shined to a fine sheen. The mare took the treat, her lips brushing Eirene’s open palm._

_“I don’t mean to bother you, but I’d be obliged if you’ll take a small gift. I think it would look lovely on your arm.”_

_She looked at the band. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly take that. Although it is beautiful, you are very skilled.” She gave him a kind smile._

_He leaned closer and slid it over her upper arm, it fit perfectly. “Please. With my compliments to an angel on a difficult day.”_

_“Thank y-“ he cut her off when his lips covered hers. Normally she would haul back and slap him, but in that moment, her heart hurting and her pride in taters, she kissed him back. He chased her retreat and they kissed again, but what she feared was a reality._

_There was no spark, no warm sensation in her belly, no hunger for his touch. Maybe she would never find those feelings again with another man. She had opened herself up to Perseus in the most intimate way and he had cast her aside, making her easily available to the highest bidder her father might find._

_A bell rang in the village and she knew it would be fully dark outside the stable. She stepped out of his embrace, feeling ashamed at the hopeful look on his face. “I must go, it’s later than I thought.”_

_She pushed the bag of apples into his hand for him to give to the horses the next day. “Thank you for your kindness, and for the token.” He nodded and she slipped past the door before he could argue for her to stay._ ::

———

-Jaskier-

Something was off, and he wasn’t sure if it was Yennefer’s hesitation or a communication problem between Istredd and Yennefer. Istredd was coming off as too forceful. “Let’s start again from Icarus giving her the cuff please.”

Cahir and Calanthe stood to the side, both waiting for the completion of the scene so he and Yennefer could take her out to dinner. Geralt and Dara, the young actor playing Marcellus waited as well, they were going to do some re-shoots in the stable area. 

They ran through the sequence again, and it seemed like Istredd was too much the aggressor. She bumped her head into one of the stable beams she backed up so fast, and the next she winced, her lips were bruised.

Geralt stood next to Jaskier and turned away, he couldn’t watch. Jaskier knew him well, and he didn’t look bored, nor was he angry. In fact, he looked upset. Like he might be sick to his stomach. This was new.

Cahir lost his patience. “Yennefer, come here.” He shouted. She walked from the stable and across the grass were he stood to the side of the crew. 

“Yennefer, what is going on. The writers put in a chaste peck with Thornwald and you’ve got three million people with their hands down their pants, but you can’t manage a simple scene with another actor? Is there something going on I need to handle?” 

He wasn’t quiet enough as he scolded her. Jaskier could see the fire in Yennefer’s mother’s eyes, and the way the muscle in Geralt’s jaw flexed. Every time Cahir stepped on his set, he fucked with their entire atmosphere. And if he didn’t stop embarrassing his leading actress, Jaskier was going to have to go to the rest of the production board and complain about his own boss.

“Absolutely not! You are unbelievable. I’m not perfect, I’m struggling, people struggle. Why don’t you show my mom your office. Please. I’ll be done in just a few minutes.” Yennefer stepped back into the stable and they ran the scene again. 

Cahir approached Calanthe but she snapped at him before he could put on a sweet face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” She was not pleased at his treatment of Yennefer and it was more than evident. 

“My mother is dead.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m also glad she didn’t have to hear _that_ bullshit.” 

His beady eyes narrowed, he was surprised at her candor. If there was one thing she wouldn’t do, it was back down when someone hurt her daughters. He wisely dropped any biting response he would have countered with, and turned to watch the scene through one of the monitors.

———  
-About A Week Later-  
-Yennefer- 

“It’s my business Geralt. I don’t need you meddling in my life!” 

“It’s your business until it’s not, until it becomes a problem for all of us!”

They were both in the mobile costume tent on the beach. She was propped up on a trunk, a baggy shirt thrown over her top as Salma worked the complicated ties of the tail at either side of her waist. Geralt had burst in looking to change. They had already seen most of each other, up close and personal anyway so she waved him in. Now she wished she hadn’t. Poor Salma was pretending she couldn’t hear them fighting, even though she was literally attached to Yennefer’s hip. 

“It’s not like he’s here, on set, because of me! He’s our boss, he’d be here regardless if we were dating or not.” She tried reasoning with him. He had been getting more and more testy every time Cahir blew onto the set in a bad mood. 

“But if you weren’t sleeping together, maybe he would spend less time berating you and more time doing his actual job!” He ground his teeth together and pulled off his tunic, facing the opposite wall of the tent. 

“That makes no fucking sense! How are you blaming me for another person’s behavior!”

“I’m not.” He sighed. “I’m just saying I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to sit there and watch you get treated like shit.” His voice had quieted and he worked the buttons of the breeches, bending to slide them down past his boxers. She averted her gaze in the opposite direction.

“It never bothered you before, what’s the big issue with it now.” She didn’t deny that Cahir had been terrible lately. She didn’t know what was up with him, he certainly hadn’t been acting like the man he was when they started dating. She turned back just in time to see him wiggle those tight as fuck jeans over his ass. 

“I can’t believe you’re defending that prick. Yeah, he’s my boss, but he’s also a first class asshole.” He shook his head. “Your mom was right.” 

“What? When did you talk to my mother. Wait, how _dare_ you talk to my mother.” Salma had the tail undone and was starting to peel the wet fabric down her thighs. 

He turned around, only to turn right back when he saw what Salma was doing. “She talked to me, not the other way around. She said she didn’t know why you felt like you had to put up with him. And a have to say, I don’t either.” He strode from the tent, his shirt in his hand.

Salma had the tail off and was unfastening the clear plastic straps that bound her legs together. “I’m so sorry you were trapped in here for that. He must be bored with whichever model he’s seeing this week so he’s got to pick on me.” She reached down to rub circles over the red marks the straps left in her legs. 

The older woman leaned back and grabbed Yennefer’s soft leggings from the rack behind them and handed them to her. “It’s none of my business either, but he’s right.” 

She opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t find the words. Maybe there weren’t any. 

She finished dressing, said goodnight to Salma and walked out the front of the tent. Something moved out of the corner of her eye and she jumped. He hadn’t left. He leaned against the outer frame of the tent lazily, the setting sun reflecting off his metallic aviators. 

Geralt straightened and held his hand out to her. “A distraction.” She gave him a weary look. “Nothing sexual and only mildly dangerous.” What the hell, what did she have to lose. She put her hand in his larger one. He walked her up the beach to street level, where his motorcycle was waiting. 

She ran her fingers over the Ducati logo etched into the fuel tank. He wrapped his leather jacked around her. “Wind.” He offered. He could tell she was starting to overthink it. “It’s perfectly safe, just like riding a horse. Except it’s two hundred and eight of them all at once.” He handed her his helmet and pulled the pegs for her feet. 

He mounted the bike and gestured for her to climb on behind him. He wrapped her arms around his waist snugly. “Try not to lean, and do _not_ let go of me. Relax, it’ll be fun.” She nodded, his helmet was heavy and smelled pleasantly of his cologne. 

He started the engine, the strong vibration and heat from the exhaust had her tightening her hold on his abs. He slid the sunglasses back into place, leaned them up straight with his long legs, and off they went into the streets of Marseille. 

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “I’m joined once again by the sensational duo behind Eirene and Perseus, Yennefer Giancardi and Geralt Thornwald. Thanks for being here guys! Today, we’re going to read some tweets - and when I say tweets, I mean thirsty ones.”

She handed Geralt a bucket labeled “Yennefer” and the “Geralt” bucket to Yennefer. 

Yennefer: “Oh, I think we’ve got these switched.” 

She went to hand it to Geralt, but the interviewer stopped her, the mix up had been intentional. 

Y: "I should have known it was his when the bucket was so full.” She smirked.

Geralt smirked right back and tipped the one in his hand so she could see that it contained just as many slips of paper as his. She blushed. The interviewer gestured for Yennefer to begin. 

Y: She cleared her throat. “Thornwald is so hot, I wish he’d hurry up and marry me already. Our babies would win beauty pageants. #BeautifulMan #ImWeak” She smiled and waved the paper at him. 

Geralt: “Well thank you very much, that’s very kind of you. When I’m in the market for a wife and babies I’ll be sure to look you up.” He pulled out one of her slips. “Don’t know what I was doing with my life before I saw Yennefer in Atlantis. #SexSceneRewatch #ImComingForYouBaby” He gave her a sheepish look, that one was creepy.

Y: “Wow that’s, very specific, and possibly a bit scary. Ah, I’m glad you’re enjoying the show, and if you’re rewatching them, please don’t tell Geralt I faked it. His ego would be bruised.” She winked and pulled the next slip. “Geralt T is going to hear from my lawyer. I saw him hold a baby on the red carpet and now I’m pregnant. #ChildSupport #BeMyBabyDaddy” 

G: “I’m not sure if that one is more biologically or financially driven but either way I do apologize for your discomfort.” He made a scared face before reading her next tweet. “How to become an actor in ten days. Where did you come from bae? Yennefer my eternal love. #FromTheDepthsIRise #EveryTimeShesTopless” Geralt’s eyebrow couldn’t have gotten any higher as he read that one. 

Y: “That one was pretty clever, if a bit revealing. I came from London. Eternally yours in thanks, me.” She smiled. “These aren’t that bad, I don’t think I’ll be needing that emergency appointment with my therapist after all.” She read the next paper. “I take that back, here we go. I will lick that man from head to toe if it’s the last thing I do before I die. #Thornwald #Thorny #PutYourThornInMe”

G: “If it’s the last thing you do, I’ll probably be a wrinkly old man and you’ll have no interest in all this licking. Also, thank you for accidentally revealing to the world the nickname my rugby mates gave me in boarding school. It’s not terribly flattering, but it seems that Horny Thorny lives.” 

Y: She grinned. “That just made my entire day, thank you @LambiePie83, I am forever grateful.”

———

-Yennefer-

She flopped down on the couch in her trailer, the smile still on her face from discovering _Horny Thorny_. Someone had left a box on her table, maybe Salma had left items for her costume the next day. She pulled the top away, only to reveal the expensive as fuck chocolates she had won in their riding bet. 

Jesus, he must have ordered the largest box, the thing probably cost five hundred euro. She sliced open the seal with her fingernail and decided on a piece wrapped in shiny gold foil. She unwrapped it carefully, inhaling the delicious aroma coming from the candy. She put the decadent chocolate past her lips and moaned. Fuck, it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. 

The book her mother had left from her sister sat just behind the chocolates. She slid it closer, still savoring the candy. _Pride and Prejudice_. She recognized the creases and folds, it was her old copy, Pavetta must have found it in her bedroom at her parents house. She had tucked a note inside the front cover. 

_Sis, mom said your BF is rude AF but that I can’t come kick his ass yet because you aren’t ready for it to be kicked. Sounds like it blows there, sorry you’re not having fun. She said that you made an actor friend but you fight with him all the time. Tell Mr. Darcy hi for me the next time you kick him in the shin. Miss you Yenna_

AN: I know, Triton XD but it’s Poseidon’s “actual” son, so we went with it. Keep in mind gentle reader that I’m only giving you snippets of _Atlantis_ , so time has passed between scenes, for example, you can assume there have been weeks between Perseus and Eirene’s ‘first time’ and their encounter at the stream.

PSA - Never ride on a motorcycle without a helmet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I know, Triton XD but it’s Poseidon’s “actual” son, so we went with it. Keep in mind that I’m only giving you snippets of _Atlantis_ , so time has passed between scenes, for example, you can assume there have been weeks between Perseus and Eirene’s ‘first time’ and their encounter at the stream.
> 
> PSA - Never ride on a motorcycle without a helmet!


	4. Fire Meets Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One relationship is healed, while another spirals towards disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fire Meets Fate, Ruelle

:: _Perseus was miserable. He had been barking at his crew, accepting nothing but perfection and snapping at his first mate. The only one who had any inkling of the cause for his demeanor change was Marcellus, who urged the rest of the men to be patient with him, but the advice of a young apprentice only went so far._

_“Is that so?” He practically snarled, ten of his men on the deck in front of him as he paced._

_“Aye. We’ll not be run ragged and ordered about for extra patrols without some explanation.”_

_“Otherwise you’ll what, quit? Leave?”_

_“We’ll have to, when we dock next.”_

_“How many?” His boots pounded on the deck as he walked._

_“Two-thirds of the crew.”_

_He spun on his heel, it was worse that he thought. “Fine, go. Everyone always leaves, just go.” He stormed down the staircase to his quarters and slammed the door shut behind him, muttering to himself about lazy, whining, children._

_“So that’s what she sees in you.”_

_There was a woman in his cabin, and she was decidedly not his Eirene. He unsheathed his dagger and crossed the room in one movement, holding the sharp edge to her neck. He had no clue how the woman had gotten onto his ship, specifically into his cabin. “Who are you?”_

_She was dressed in finery, a flowing white gown and a perfect string of pearls around her neck. Painfully beautiful, her glowing skin and delicate features were framed by waves of golden blonde hair that reached her waist. “Your sister.”_

_“Right. Sorry to inform you that I have no siblings. How did you get in here?” His eyes narrowed._

_“Well, your half sister, Athena. Father dearest gets around.” She sighed. “You can lower the blade, I mean you no harm. I got in the same way she does.” She glanced at the open window. “You weren’t keeping it unlocked, hoping, were you?”_

_“Get out, right now. I don’t have time for the gods and their bullshit, I’ve a ship to run.” He pulled the dagger from her neck and turned to the maps on his desk. “I trust you can see yourself out.”_

_“Perseus, you, are a god. Half mortal, but Zeus’s son none the less. I take it you never knew your father as a boy?” She took a step closer, running her hand over open compass sitting near his hand._

_“I don’t believe a word from your lips, get out, before I no longer ask so nicely.”_

_“She appears to you half naked with a tail, and you roll over like a trained dog. Yet, you fight me. Love is such bullshit, it is no wonder so many die from it.”_

_He met her gaze, still leaning over the curling papers. “Leave her alone.”_

_“Ah, I have your attention. What if I told you that your fate has already been set, that things far beyond your control are already in motion. I speak of a great battle between the divine and the mortal. It wouldn’t be the first, and it won’t be the last - but you’ve a particular interest in this conflict.”_

_“Why are you telling me this? What’s in it for you?”_

_“Well, brother,” he blanched, “Poseidon has been a thorn in my side for the last decade. I prefer conflicts be settled with strategy, with wisdom, a more civilized form of justice. He and his upstart son are making things difficult for me in my efforts to keep the peace. You are my convenient distraction. If he’s busy chasing after his stubborn daughter, he’s not destroying beach villages and sinking every other ship in the sea.”_

_“I let her go, so she could fulfill her own destiny. I won’t interfere and put her at odds with her family and in danger just because I want her with me.” He shook his head._

_“Destiny doesn’t exist, but fate certainly does, and she can be a cruel bitch.” They stared each other down, brilliant blue clashing with bright gold. She shrugged. “Fine, refuse my offer to help and let her father have his way. You will be reunited with her in this way as well.”_

_She turned and strode toward the open window. He couldn’t resist. “When?”_

_“I know a very good seer, his predictions have never proven false.” She twisted to read his face, “You’ll find her at the battle, but not before she’s taken her last breath.”_

_———_

_“Is this really necessary?” He tried to pull the fabric tighter around his torso. She straightened the gold band holding the white tunic in place._

_“Yes. It’s a masquerade ball. You can’t show up with a little mask on and expect your identity to remain hidden wearing trousers and boots.” Athena pulled a heavy cloak over his broad shoulder and pinned it with a heavy broach. She stood back and appraised her work. “Your legs are pale, but you’ll do.”_

_She secured the black half mask on his face, and a white one over her own. “Now take my arm and pretend like you know what you’re doing.” They began walking down a long, marble corridor, the bustling great hall ahead._

_“I won’t know the dances.”_

_“Then don’t dance. You can speak, can’t you?” She ignored the perturbed look he shot her._

_“Making a spectacle of poor dance skills would be a dead giveaway that you’re not from any court. Poseidon met his wife, Eirene’s mother, at a dance just like this, and that is why he continues the tradition. I suspect we will find his eldest, Triton, doing his best to marry off your nymph to the first man who would take her.”_

_They crossed through a wide archway into the main room, unnoticed due to all the masks. She instructed him to pour goblets of wine for both of them from a large cask near a small seating area. They stood, sipping Poseidon’s wine as they surveyed the room full of elegantly dressed guests._

_“Why the rush to marry her off? Her father’s wishes?” He stood taller than many of the men in the room, his expression one of determination as he looked for her._

_“Triton wants her out of his way. He’s reckless, ambitious - he’s the exceptionally big one over there.” She nodded her head toward the back of a veritable giant. Barrel chested and thick with muscle, he stood two heads above those he conversed with._

_Athena continued. “Their father listens to Eirene. She displays her mother’s caring, rational demeanor, and her advice is level headed and fair. I would imagine that the most foolish, impulsive thing she’s ever done is, you.” She smirked._

_Before he could cut back at her, he heard her voice. Her laugh, it made his heart beat faster in his chest. He turned slowly until he recognized her long, raven colored hair, intricately twisted down her back._

_She followed his gaze. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” He wasn’t paying her any attention. She pinched his arm. “Follow me, and don’t speak until we have her alone. And for all that is divine, don’t even look at Triton the wrong way if he should approach. He’s not an enemy we need yet.”_

_They walked quickly and quietly, the bulky man Eirene had been laughing with took his leave just as they neared._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

“I don’t know what to say, thank you.” Cahir held the long jewelry box open in front of her, salads still on their plates. 

“Here, put it on.” He urged. She held out her wrist and he draped the diamond bracelet over it, securing the clasp. 

“It’s beautiful, you really shouldn’t have done this. What’s the occasion?” 

Cahir straightened in his seat, waving their waiter over to refill their wine glasses. “I’ve been neglecting you. And it’s an apology, for the pressure I put on you to perform in that scene in the stables last week. You didn’t deserve it.” 

“An _I’m sorry_ would have sufficed, but it’s lovely. Thank you.” She reached for a dinner roll, tearing a small piece off and popping it in her mouth. He raised an eyebrow. She put the rest of the roll back on her plate slowly. 

He shrugged, “It’s just, you’ve got the beach scenes coming up. I don’t want Thornwald picking on you, I know you two have gone back and forth.” 

“Yeah, he can be brutal.” She changed the subject and asked about his mother.

———  
-The Next Day-

She exhaled through her nose hard, pushing herself through the last mile of her 5k run. The belt of the treadmill whirred underneath her, her footfalls light and fast. Small but well supplied with equipment, the cozy gym on the outskirts of Marseille had become a favorite of the film crew. There were only about ten other people in the gym until the door opened and a group of men she recognized entered. 

Ragnar, an extremely tall, handsome actor who had just joined them on set was playing Triton. He was of Finnish descent, and his sharp bone structure and fair features made him a stunning ‘villain’ on the screen. Chireadan followed, it was rare that Yennefer came to exercise and didn’t find him already well into a workout. 

Geralt ducked through the door next, holding it open behind him as Dara rushed in. Chireadan noticed her and nodded, as did Dara and she waved at them both. At sixteen, he showed a lot of promise as an actor and had taken to following Geralt around like a puppy, much like their fictional counterparts. Everyone had to have a role model, but she cringed, picturing him dating vapid models and walking around like the world spun around his big head. 

Big head himself set up he and Dara on one of the benches near the front and began loading weights onto their bar. Her treadmill slowed as she completed her run and she stepped down to stretch and use some of the resistance bands that hung on the wall. She felt accomplished but not yet exhausted, and remembered she was there to challenge herself. She had another topless scene coming up the next day and anything she could do to improve her physique would help. 

She gathered her water bottle and her phone, heading back to the cardio area, groaning to herself when Geralt was stationed next to the only available treadmill. 

She glided up on the belt and programmed another 5k, taking a long drag from her bottle and ignoring the way his black t-shirt clung to his sweaty skin. She hit her stride, and he clicked the speed up on his machine. Now she felt like she was going too slow. She clicked the speed up on hers. He did it again, *beep*, *beep*. She finally turned and glared at him, his innocent shrug making her roll her eyes. How was it that he could irritate the hell out of her so effectively without even saying a word. 

She turned hers back to a manageable level and it was only a few minutes before he did the same. He pointed to the front corner of the room where a couple exercised together. Well, exercise was a loose term. The man was jacked, his body bulky to the point where she found it almost distasteful. He’d entered the gym without a shirt, and it seemed like she only owned half of one, the tiny tank top doing nothing to cover her flat midriff and breasts that were barely contained by her sports bra. 

Yennefer didn’t speak French, Italian was her second language. Geralt did however, and she supposed he could hear snippets of their conversation. Geralt made a face, clearly unimpressed with what he was hearing. He flexed his arm placing an elaborate kiss on his bicep as he ran, mocking the muscle head in the corner. Yennefer pushed her breasts up and pursed her lips together like a fish, her impression of the woman spot on. 

“He wants her.” Geralt supplied, increasing the incline on his machine. 

“No he doesn’t, all he cares about is his own appearance.” She thought the man looked uncomfortable under the woman’s heavy flirting.

“I’ll put money on that.”

She huffed, “Absolutely not, for two reasons. One, you speak the language. Two, I’m not betting you anything after last time.” Her hair was in a high pony, but even that was beginning to stick to her skin.

He was confused. “Why the hell not, you won.” 

She increased her speed a notch, sweat beginning to drip down the small of her back. “Because I ate too much of that chocolate and now I’m too fat for the scene tomorrow.” There was no point in lying, she was punish-, pushing herself for a reason. 

“How can that be possible, there’s no costume, it’s naked. How can you be too fat.” He peered down at the display on her treadmill. “Weren’t you running already when we walked in?” 

“He’s not wrong –“ she began to explain, but he slammed his hand down on the stop button and the belt under him slowed.

“You’re quitting?” She was surprised, he was only minutes away from finishing. 

“I have a date tonight, I don’t need any extra cardio.” He climbed down from the machine and walked toward the door. Chireadan looked up and Geralt threw him a peace sign before he put on his sunglasses and stepped out into the bright sun.

He didn’t need to say goodbye, it’s not like they had come together or he’d even said hello, but his exit was terribly abrupt, even for him. She wondered who he was seeing. Maybe Keira was back in town. She wasn’t the type that Yennefer would naturally be friends with, but Geralt smiled and laughed with her. They were a good match. She just wasn’t sure why that made her stomach hurt. 

———

:: _He and Athena walked into her field of vision, and he could tell she didn’t recognize them. Eirene looked at Athena closely at first, until he noticed she inhaled a deep breath through her nose, jerking her head to stare at him with wide eyes._

_“Do not tell me you can smell him. I swear to Cronus, if I ever fall ill with an emotion as silly as love, put me out of my misery.”_

_Eirene looked back at the blonde woman. Who was she, and how on earth was Perseus here? He’d told her to go and find a husband, why would he show up and interrupt the very thing he turned his back on her for._

_Perseus was staring at her, the black mask doing a poor job of disguising the emotion on his face. Her dress was the most beautiful thing she’d ever let he father’s maids pull over her head. Everyone in the room was dressed in white, a tradition held to even the playing field between the available women._

_Eirene’s left her arms bare, strung crystals laying over her shoulders and gathering the satin before draping it elegantly to the center of her chest, where another elegant “V” of crystals flared and created a fitted bodice. The silky material dipped low between her breasts and flowed to the floor. Matching crystal cuffs donned her narrow wrists, crystals hanging from her ear lobes and woven into her dark hair._

_Before he could open his mouth, her brother appeared at her side, taller and even more imposing up close. “Eirene, Eros has asked for a dance with you.”_

_She hesitated, and he wasn’t amused. “Come.” He prodded, pulling her along by the arm._

_Perseus turned to Athena, “Eros, I don’t recognize the name.”_

_She looked away as she spoke, “God of sexual desire and attraction.”_

_He got three feet before she grabbed his shoulder. “I told you, do not anger Triton. He won’t give her to Eros, the man goes through wives like water through a net. Triton is just flexing his authority over her. Poseidon isn’t here, so it’s a temporary condition.”_

_He grit his teeth and watched her spin and twirl around the room, arm in arm with the curly haired god. He had been a fool, thinking she was better off in that room than with him. He shuddered. He didn’t need to see the man’s meaty hand on her waist, nor the way he whispered in her ear when she swirled back into his arms in time with the other women._

_“He’s got wings. What have you, stud?”_

_He turned back to her, incredulous expression on his face. The corners of her eyes crinkled. “I’m joking. You’re so easy to rile, it amuses me.”_

_There was a commotion on the other side of the room, and it appeared there was a conflict over a which suitor was entertaining a lovely young woman with fiery red hair. Athena peered into the scuffle from their position near the wall. “Alastor is involved, that will degrade quickly. Best to get her out as soon as this dance is over. Don’t try and talk to her in here, just get her out and down the hall.”_

_Eros brushed close to her side, his hands a bit more liberal on her than the other couples in the dance. Athena slipped through the masked onlookers and disappeared into a shadowed hall. The dance drew to a close and she subtly searched the room for him. He tipped his head toward the entryway and she understood._

_When she entered the marble hall he had to resist pulling her into his embrace. She didn’t know what Athena’s seer did, and she was likely to throttle him for showing his face._

_“Who is she Perseus?” Her words were whispered, but angry. “Is this because of Icarus? I didn’t ask for that to happen.” She suddenly found his feet fascinating, waiting to hear he loved this woman and that was the true reason he’d cut her loose._

_He went to answer about Athena, but stopped short. “What? The blacksmith?” Panic flashed across his features, and he searched her face. “Did he hurt you?” His voice was so low she could barely make out the words._

_“No!” She held her hands out, taking a deep breath. “No, he’s a sweet man.”_

_“Then what, you slept with him because he’s a sweet man?” Heat was rising on his neck, the vein in his forehead pulsed as he clenched his jaw._

_“No, and you don’t have the right to be upset about it at this point.” She turned on her heel, heading the opposite way down the long corridor._

_“Eirene, stop. Please.” His strong and steady voice wavered. “Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter.”_

_“It does. Perseus, you…threw me away.” She swallowed, “I don’t know why you’re here, but please go. I can’t go through that again.”_

_“That’s not what I was trying to do! I didn’t want to ruin your life. To get in the way of your destiny, or fate, or whatever the fuck it is. I didn’t want you to be less, because you chose to be with me.”_

_Athena’s sandals tapped toward them from a nearby alcove. “I can’t take it anymore. He’s an idiot, but he loves you. So, if you can abide an idiot, can you kiss and make amends before the brawl in that room spills out of those doors and neither of you have a choice who you end up with?”_

_Eirene turned from the woman back to Perseus. “Who is she?”_

_“Ah! Rude!” Athena huffed._

_He smiled. “My sister.” He walked close to her, the rough pads of his fingertips tracing her cheekbone, his thumb glancing across her lip. “Turns out I’m half man, half beast.” The corner of his mouth quirked up._

_She took a step between his feet, leaning her face into his palm. “I could have told you that.” She smirked, until he covered her lips with his._ :: 

———

-Eskel-

He could tell this cast wasn’t chosen for their dancing skills. It made sense, the show was made up of more fighting and gore, but they had a masquerade ball to film and quite a few novices to work around. He had been thrilled to land the job and work with his brother, and even more so in a long term contract. He and Geralt were raised in London, and their parents were overjoyed to have them relatively close to home as opposed to all the time Geralt had spent in the states. 

His younger brother also knew that if he was in charge of the stunt work, he’d get to do all of Perseus’s fighting himself. That was incentive enough for Eskel, a chance to toss Geralt on his ass and get paid for it. They had to live through this dance sequence first, before anyone got to have fun with bows, arrows, and swords. 

The lead actress wasn’t an issue, she was unskilled, but graceful enough that it didn’t matter. Geralt could dance, he’d done enough period dramas to master the count, but the problems were these supporting roles. It was a masquerade, so it really didn’t matter what actors they had behind the masks. He approached the director. 

“Jaskier? Is there any way we could snag a few dancers from the school up the road? I’m sure they’d do it for next to nothing to be on tv, and we could really use some more people who can move.” 

“Oh, thank god. That sounds perfect, because this is an aesthetic nightmare. How many do you need?”

“Five, ten would be phenomenal. Just enough to fill the dancers around Eirene for her dance with Triton’s set up and –“ He stopped when someone behind them shouted. 

“Oh!” A woman gasped. “Call an ambulance!” 

_Fuck._ His first day on the job and he had already an injury. He picked his way through the crowd of costumed actors. “Back up, spread out please.” 

_Double fuck._ It was the lead, Jenn-, Yennefer, passed out on the stone floor. They were shooting inside a massive church, appointed to look like a great hall worthy of the gods, and they were surrounded by solid rock. This was not the place you wanted to hit your head. One of the prop men, the big guy, knelt over her checking her vitals. 

“Do I need to call?...” Eskel didn’t see any blood, just a pile of white satin and a slip of a woman.

He looked up, “I’m a paramedic, and I’m not sure yet, but I think she just passed out.” 

“Oh god, I should have caught her.” The short man who danced with her in the scene fretted nervously above them. “She said she wasn’t feeling well, and I should have told someone.” 

“Yenna? Sweetie, can you hear me? Here, can someone hold her legs up?” He folded her knees at a ninety degree angle, handing them to Eskel.

He held her legs together against his waist, catching his brother out of the corner of his eye. He stood lurking against the wall, but watching the scene with a somewhat spooked expression. He didn’t think Geralt was even in the room a few minutes ago. 

“There, just like that, above her heart.” 

Jaskier was hovering nervously. “I think I better call, just in case.” His wife put her arm on his and reassured him the man knew what he was doing. 

She groaned, her dark lashes fluttering open slowly. “Chireadan? What happened? Why is everyone staring at me like I flipped off the pope?”

He chuckled, “You passed out.” 

“Oh god, I’m sorry. Did I ruin the shot?” 

Jaskier interjected, “Not this time trouble maker, I was surprised too.” 

Chireadan helped her sit up, her head clearly swimming. “You’re so mean, but I still love you.” Jaskier preened. The crowd began to disperse when it was clear she would be alright. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Her color was coming back but Chireadan was still concerned. 

“Lunch, a protein bar, you took my wrapper because I was in the tail.” She was proud of herself for remembering the detail when she felt like she had napped for hours. 

“Well, that was yesterday, and you need to eat something.” He picked her up, used to carrying her all over the set. 

She called back over his shoulder, “Jaskier, I just need a sip of water, I’ll be right back!” 

Eskel still couldn’t figure out his brother’s interest, he didn’t act overly flirty or friendly with the woman. Geralt turned to leave the opposite direction when one of the producers walked in and breezed past him. Geralt turned and growled, “Are you happy now? When is it going to be enough?” 

“Fuck you, Thornwald. I’ve had about enough of your one off comments and side glances. I brought you in on this and I can take you out if you don’t like your job here.” 

Holy shit, were was all this aggression coming from? Geralt was always well liked on set. What the hell had he walked into on this job?

\------

:: _They ran down the beach, away from Poseidon’s palace and toward their future together. Athena hadn’t waited around for Perseus and Eirene to peel themselves apart in the hallway. They had been apart for weeks and it showed. His long stride was tiring her, their hands clasped together as the sand kicked up at their sandaled feet._

_“Perseus!” She laughed, bending to catch her breath when he slowed. The edge of the island curled around and the massive stone structure was no longer visible. The sun was just beginning to rise over their shoulders._

_“How much farther?” He scooped her up in his arms and she held onto his neck, laying chaste kisses on the golden skin not covered by his cloak._

_“Not too long. Just beyond those tree is an alcove with fresh water, and it’s just past. It’s only an abandoned hut, nothing breathtaking.”_

_His powerful strides brought them steadily closer, the adrenaline flowing through his veins making her light as a feather. “If you’re in it, my breath will surely be gone.”_

_She smiled, leaning to press a kiss just below his ear. “There are other ways I plan to steal your breath my love.” He walked faster, slowing when they reached the small estuary she had referred to. He feigned throwing her in the water, and she squealed, startling a few small birds from the surrounding trees._

_He set her down on the white sand, not far from the creek that flowed toward the ocean. His hands ran up and down her sides. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”_

_“Don’t get used to me wearing it, I haven’t the time for finery and frills.” She threaded her hands into his hair and pulled him down for a hard kiss. They were both panting when she pulled back, lips swollen and rose red. He unpinned the broach securing his cloak and tossed both aside._

_“I wasn’t talking about the dress.” He knelt in the sand in front of her and smoothed his hands over her delicate ankles, then up the back of her calves. He pulled he hem of her gown over his head and disappeared. Her eyes closed, a soft ‘oh’ on her lips._ ::

———

-Geralt-

She was squeezing the hell out of his head. He was having flashbacks to the James Bond movie where that woman had thighs of steal and nearly cracked Pierce Brosnan in half. _GoldenEye_ if he remembered correctly. The shot was supposed to pan from his legs, up the front of her dress which was over his head, and to her facial expression. It should have been a ten or fifteen minute shot, but she insisted on torturing him. It was warm underneath her dress in the direct sunlight, “LAMDA” in hot pink letters across the white shorts she wore. 

He heard Jaskier call for action and he lightly tickled the back of her knees in retaliation. They buckled slightly, and he held her up, her sharp cry of surprise ringing in his ears. He was glad she couldn’t see his grin, she would have certainly tried to smack it off his face. 

“Cut! Ok that was very…enthusiastic, but we only want to allude to what Perseus is up to. Next shot we’ll stick to her biting her lip and closing her eyes. Actually, he’s been under there a while, you alright Ger?”

She laughed, “I think he’s fine, he’s playing ‘tic-tac-toe’ on my leg.” She shook the fabric, “Tell him if you’re alive in there.” 

“Stardate 47457.1 Barely alive, but I’m starting to adapt to my new environment.” Some of the crew members chuckled. 

\------

:: _The warm sand was almost too much against her back, she fought to catch her breath. He ducked out from under the ivory silk and worked it up her body, her hips lifting for him before he pulled it over her head, careful not to catch the crystals woven into her hair. She tugged at his tunic and he yanked it off, both of them already damp with sweat from the rising sun, sand clinging to their skin._

_He leaned over her and they kissed, her fingers winding into his hair and finding the small plait she had made so long ago. She pulled away a fraction, their noses still close, “You kept it.” She sounded surprised._

_“Of course I did, it was the only thing I had left of you. The only thing that reminded me you were real, and not just some figment of my imagination.”_

_She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry.”_

_“So am I.” He laid butterfly kisses across her chest. “I’ve learned my lesson. I must think fast the next time you want to throttle me, else I’ll be hunting you to the ends of the earth.” He bent over her breast._

_“Mmmmm,” she hummed. “You’d never find me, unless I wanted to be found.”  
“And do you? Want me to find you?” _

_“Gods yes, please-“ He shifted above her with a grunt. Her lashes slammed shut, dragging him back down to her lips for a passionate kiss. Her fingers slid over the damp, flexing muscles in his back as his free hand palmed her breast._ ::

\------

-Jaskier-

Geralt, he and Yennefer stood closely on the beach talking. He wanted to be sure they were both comfortable for the upcoming scene. Yennefer especially, as it would be the most revealing she had done. For the most part they had covered her with clothing, her hair, or Geralt’s chest; but this scene called for a bit more. They would only shoot from the waist up, but she would be topless and Geralt touching her. 

“Most of these scenes are choreographed down to the second. If its okay with you, I don’t want to do it that way. You know I never do what I’m told, ask Sabrina. Rather than start and stop and jerk everyone all over, just do what Perseus and Eirene would. We’ll just run both cameras and lay the different shots over one another, whichever ones come out best and the most natural. This way we’ll only have to do it three or four times, instead of all day.” 

Jaskier looked at Yennefer carefully, “Only if you’re comfortable with it. Just say something like, apple juice, if you want out.” 

“Not a problem. Apple juice or I’ll just knee him in the groin.” She gave a sweet smile. 

“What’s my safe word Jaskier? She bites you know.” Geralt gave her a pointed look.

Yennefer turned to walk back to the shooting spot and Geralt followed. “You wish.” She taunted, and continued on in a deep voice mocking Geralt’s low tone. “Jaskierrrr, apple sauce, she’s so mean, you can’t see my seventh and eigth abdominal muscle from that angle.” 

He grinned through her teasing. “So you’ve counted them.” 

Jaskier watched them go, fingers pressed into his temple in frustration. They were both amazing actors. They put in the time, and got the shots he needed. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that the nature of his problem was changing. Where once he feared turning a corner on set and finding them fighting, now he thought he just might find them fucking. He hoped it wasn’t for a while yet, because his dates in the betting pool weren’t for two more weeks. 

\------

-Geralt-

He was skilled at this. Acting. How many times before had he laid over, or under a beautiful woman and kept his mind completely clinical. The women were acting too, they weren’t getting anything out of the embrace, so neither should he. But she annoyed the ever living shit out of him. At all hours of the day, on set and off, day or night. 

As he laid on top of her, his knees and elbows propped in the sand, it was evident he had an issue. Her skin was warm and soft as he kissed across her chest, getting through Perseus’s line about how he would follow her if she ever left him again. He covered her breast with his mouth as her fingertips massaged glorious patterns in his scalp. Her nipple pebbled under his tongue and he held back a groan. This was in the script, it was all in the script. He played the words through his head like a mantra. 

Her hips rose subtly to meet the roll of his, their tongues dueling out the same rhythm. She lifted her legs to wrap around his waist. Fuck, he didn’t remember reading that. He closed his eyes, willing himself to stay calm. He was wearing a modesty sock, and she flesh colored panties, but it would do little to hide an erection from her if he couldn’t keep it together. His deep, cleansing breath came out as a pant when he covered her breast with his hand. It’s IN the script, he would be fine. She surprised him with a ragged moan, shifting her hips, and he was fucked. 

\------

-Yennefer- 

She was new at this. Well, relatively inexperienced. She had done well so far though, keeping her mind focused on the job and the emotion that Jaskier was and wasn’t looking for. She spent twice as much time preparing with the scripts that contained intimate scenes, more so even since her one hiccup with Istredd. He had been really kind about the whole thing, and had even given her some pointers on how to angle her head so an embrace would look passionate even though she wasn’t even kissing the other actor. 

Unfortunately in this scene there was nothing to hide behind, no wooden stable beam, no clothes even. Just sand, sweat, and a thrusting Geralt on top of her. And to her shame, he was getting to her. She had made the mistake of remembering the dream she’d had about him on the beach, and from the second he touched her she was wet. 

She tried to think about unpleasant things, but his weight on top of her and the exquisite slide of his chest against hers was making it impossible for her to completely separate herself from what Eirene was supposed to be feeling. In fact, she was starting to think that girl was a lucky bitch. He cupped her breast, his face screwed up in concentration, and she moaned low, her lashes fluttering shut as his thumb caressed her sensitive nipple. 

Was that? It was. His erection rode against her leg even as he broke their kiss and made his way to her ear. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and ragged, a tone she’d never heard from his mouth in all their months shooting together. 

She pulled one hand from his scalp and ran it down his back. She traced the letters “O” and “K” when her hand snuck out of the second camera’s view. He kissed his way back across her jaw and she leaned her head back into the sand. He licked down her throat and ran his teeth over her collar bone gently. 

“Cut! …. Cut! … Earth to – there they are.” Jaskier smiled brighter than the lighting rigged up next to him.  
They were both panting, Geralt resting his face on her shoulder to ease the ache in his neck. “Take a break guys, I need to sift through that footage. There is… a lot.” 

Salma came forward with her robe but she waved her off. He was still hard and ready to go against her hip and everyone would know if he climbed off of her. “Just breathe, relax, we’re catching our breath anyway. I’ll help you.” 

She tried to remain absolutely still in the sand beneath him. “Let’s see…people that litter. Gum stuck to a shoe. Fresh doggie poop. Crumbs left in the toaster. Jelly remnants in the peanut butter jar.” 

He was laughing against her shoulder. “These are all terribly specific.” 

“Breaking up with someone. Oh! Interviews. Getting home and finding out you had broccoli in your teeth all night and your friends never told you. When little kids sneeze and the snot is running down their face and – “ 

“And, we’re good.” He motioned for Salma to bring her robe. 

\-------

:: _Perseus followed Eirene through the trees until a small structure came into view. They had bathed in the creek, dried in the sun languidly and redressed in their finery. She showed him her plants and journals, animatedly walking him through the massive pile of books._

_“You’ve read all of these?” He was impressed._

_“Most of them more than once.” The sun was setting fast, so she struck a match and lit of few of the candles she had smuggled inside. The hammered steel cuff sat up on a high shelf and it caught his eye in the candlelight._

_“Do I need to murder my blacksmith?” His tone was light, but she could tell there was guilt and just a wee bit of rage behind his eyes._

_“He gave me that and a kiss. And the reassurance I was only one of many of your women.” His eyes went wide. “His intentions were good, let it be.” She soothed his ire with slow kiss. “Lay with me?”_

_He laid with his back against the wall and she crawled into his arms, fitting her back into his chest like a puzzle piece. He pulled the linens across both of them and draped his cloak over her as well. The knife she kept in the hut was on the wall just above them. She snuggled closer, her cold feet tangling against his warm calves. His arm was tucked against her chest when she fell asleep, he followed shortly after to the steady beat of her heart against his hand._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

Sabrina told her what happened between Geralt and Cahir. She couldn’t believe it had come to this. She was trying to give her relationship with Cahir the benefit of the doubt, but she was wearing thin. She had been surprised at their immediate connection when she first met him, but the more she got to know him, it was becoming evident that it might not work out.

The dynamic brought on by their jobs didn’t help matters. She never knew how far she could go with him. The fact of the matter was, standing up for herself to her boyfriend might cost her a job. She thought he had changed, but it was more likely that she finally saw who he really was. 

Geralt as well, she didn’t understand Cahir’s issue with him. First the comment at the stables about how it was so easy for her to make their scenes hot, and again he brought Geralt up while they were out to dinner. Now, with what Sabrina had told her, her relationship problems were spilling over onto him in a real way. Threatening his livelihood, exactly what he’d asked her not to let happen. 

She had to talk with Cahir, and she owed Geralt an apology. Coincidentally, the latter just walked into her view, gym bag over his shoulder and headed for his bike. She called his name and he slowed, waiting for her. 

The both started at the same time, “Look –“ 

“You go first.” She offered.

“I’m really sorry about today, it was unprofessional and uncalled for. Thank you for handling it so, gracefully.” He looked genuinely upset.

“It’s not even a thing, at all. I could have called apple juice at any time, it’s a bodily reaction. I wasn’t so…unaffected myself.” His eyes widened but he left it alone.

“My turn to apologize.” She stared at his duffel bag. “What you said before, about my relationship with Cahir impacting everyone else, I can see that’s a real issue now. Sabrina told me you had words with him in the church, and that’s on me, and I’m sorry.” 

“I -, we, are worried about you. He’s not a good fit for you.” 

“Who’s _we_?” 

“Myself, Jaskier, Sabrina, your mother, Chireadan…anyone who’s ever been in the same room with you two.” 

“This is the part where I get pissed about all of you talking about me behind my back like I’m a child. But I suppose I lost that right when he screamed at me in front of you all.” 

“I don’t make a habit of getting in other people’s business, I don’t even care to get involved in my own half the time, but you’re a different person around him. A woman that lets a man belittle her and starves herself until she passes out because he insinuated something about her weight. I don’t think that’s you, I _hope_ that’s not you.” 

“What makes you such an expert on relationships that last longer than a week?” Everything he was saying was such a bitter pill, she couldn’t help herself. 

“Thanks for that. Maybe I’m wrong about you, I’ve been wrong before. You probably know this, if you’ve ever picked up a British tabloid since you were seventeen, but I was young and stupid once too. I was engaged to a woman who wanted me for the wrong reasons, she treated me like shit, and when it all went to hell she told the world that I had emotionally abused her. It took me years to rebuild my career and my reputation after that.” 

He straightened the bag on his shoulder. “If I ever dare to seriously date someone again, she’d have to be someone pretty fucking awesome. The point is, you’re worth it, and you shouldn’t settle for someone who isn’t right for you. So, I guess there’s your PSA. Sorry about the boner and stand up for yourself before I call your mother and she burns down his house.” 

He turned to continue walking. 

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “Today we’re lucky enough to be joined by not only Geralt and Yennefer from Atlantis, but the show’s esteemed director Jaskier, and producer Cahir. Thank you all so much for being here!”

Jaskier: “Absolutely, we’re thrilled that the show already has a loyal following and we’re going to do whatever we can to please the fans.” 

I: “Excellent! I do have some questions with me today from some folks who are already addicted to the show and these wonderful characters! The first question is for Yennefer, they want to know _how a nymph knew how to ride horses so well, and to that end, Perseus._ ”

Yennefer: “They snuck that last part right in there didn’t they. Well, Eirene’s father is the god of horses, and I think it’s safe to assume there are wild horses on the island she was raised on, it’s a pretty massive place. She’s the outdoor type, and if the boys were doing it you can bet she was in line to learn. Ah, that second point – she did grow up with two sisters who married before her, and she spent her time learning with the boys, much to Poseidon’s ire. So, she’s seen some stuff.” She and Jaskier chuckled. 

I: “The next question, I guess this is probably for you Jaskier, she’s asking, _what is Eirene’s birth control situation. They are going at it like rabbits and I don’t see the big “P” pulling out. Can mermaids even get pregnant?_.”

Geralt and Yennefer shared a knowing look that Cahir didn’t miss. 

J: “Ah, good point. Well, I would say that when Eirene isn’t in the water, and she’s got her legs, that she’s a fully functioning lady.” 

Y: “That’s so sweet of you Jaskier, poetry.” 

G: “So romantic I’ve got chills.” 

J: “Hey, no picking on me. They’re going to question my authority over this circus.” 

I: “You guys are all so cute, thank you Jaskier! So, the last one, _rumor is that the romantic scenes have been so steamy because you two are an item off the screen_ , she motioned to Geralt and Yennefer, _Is there any truth to that?_ ”

Cahir: “I’ll take that one. Actually no, I’m the lucky man who gets to call Yennefer my other half. She is an amazing actress, and you’d never know it but actually she and Geralt don’t really get along. The heat on screen is a testament to her skill.” 

Jaskier, Geralt, and Yennefer sat frozen. Why, on earth, would he reveal that they didn’t get along. 

G: “I think what he means is that we tease each other. Jaskier works hard to maintain a great atmosphere for us to work such long and grueling hours in, and I think most of us on set think of it as a large family. Yennefer, and the rest of the cast is a pleasure to work with for me.” 

———

-Geralt-

He jogged down the beach barefoot, avoiding production equipment and the first stirrings of life on the set. It was only six thirty in the morning and the sun had just risen. He didn’t have to film until nine, but he’d had trouble sleeping. The events of the last week or so were weighing on him.

He couldn’t believe what he’d said to Cahir, and for an actress who would tell him to his face that she couldn’t stand him. It was insane, but he couldn’t figure out why she got under his skin, and why he gave a shit. Part of him knew why, and the rest of him beat that part back every time the thought crossed his mind. 

He slowed and bent to stretch against a trailer loaded with one of the boats they used to film out on the water. He extended his calves, followed by hamstrings and quads. He looked down the beach toward the waves, gentle as they washed over the sand, cleansing any imperfections. 

His view was unmarred with the exception of an early beachgoer, and it looked like the person was asleep. He squinted, realizing he recognized the dark curls. What the hell? He jogged over to her finding her fast asleep, her hands tucked under her face and what looked like a sketchbook on the small blanket under her. 

Anyone could have found her, Christ, she could have gotten mugged, or worse. He looked back up the beach, and Chireadan waved, flashing thumbs up. He was keeping an eye on her as they set up. Thank god. 

He snuck a peak at what she had been sketching, certain she wouldn’t show him if he asked. There were quite a few on the large sheet, and they were decent, no - _good_. Perseus’s ship and the outlines of what was going to be Poseidon’s throne were the largest, followed by a group of faces. A comical one of Jaskier yelling sat near one of Sabrina’s soft smiles. 

Even after months of working with her, she was still surprising him. She’d graduated high school and university early, with the swimming and horseback riding, and now he discovered she was an artist. He was glad she was asleep though, because dead center on the page was a stunning likeness of himself that could have been professionally done. He wore a wicked smile, likely one she’d seen while trading verbal blows with him.

He shook his head, letting her sleep. He double checked that Chireadan would keep watch and got himself a coffee from the on set vendor before heading into his trailer to shower. 

———

She woke up with a start, quickly realizing she had fallen asleep on the beach. She sat up and noticed a coffee cup and a paper bag near where her head laid. She looked around, and seeing no one, peaked in the bag - a chocolate chip scone. The turned the coffee cup, white, handwritten lettering on the side. _It’s not poisoned. -G_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ragnar an Craite is the son of Crach an Craite (Eist’s nephew and Yennefer’s former hook up in canon); he’s super tall, and I made him look Nordic b/c well, Vikings <3  
> LAMDA – London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (Anya when there of course XD )


	5. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt asks a favor from Yennefer when she could use a distraction most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undone - Tommee Profitt, feat. Fleurie

:: _“Do you want to see it or not?” She swam around to his back as he tread water, her lips tracing his broad shoulder and up the side of his neck. “You’ll be all right, don’t you trust me my love?”_

_“With my life.”_

_She circled back to his chest, instructing him to hang onto her high on her arms. “Close your eyes until we slow, otherwise the salt water will burn.” It had taken her some coaxing, but he was finally comfortable stripping out of his clothes and diving from the ship to swim with her. The lure of a shipwreck, possibly one that he had previously captained, was too great and he had agreed to let her swim him down to it._

_They both took deep breaths and she plunged them underwater, his hands gripping her shoulders hard to hang on in the wake of her powerful strokes. The water stopped pulling against him and she tapped his hand. He opened his eyes to discover she was right, it was a vessel he knew, one that was probably still full of silver and a load of gems that had been on board._

_He pulled himself down along the mizzen mast to the upper deck, before deciding he was going to need air soon. He turned and she was right behind him, pressing her lips to his and giving him the air she swallowed and didn’t truly need. He reached the grate leading down to the next level, but even the air she’d given him wouldn’t last long enough to get him to the hold._

_He turned around and she looped her arm around his waist, swimming hard for the surface._ ::

\------

-Geralt-

The crew was trimmed down as far as they could go, only the essential personnel were gathered around the pool. Yennefer and Geralt were hanging onto the edge as they reset the film equipment. They had just filmed shots of Eirene taking Perseus down in the depths for the first time, and they were setting up for a shallow underwater kiss that would be used in promos for the show. 

Geralt’s assistant handed him his phone so he could text Eskel he wouldn’t make it for jiu jitsu. He’d been swimming all day and he was exhausted. He thought back to their first week of filming when he’d berated Yennefer for the same thing. No wonder she’d tried to hit him. 

Salma knelt by the edge of the pool and handed Yennefer a cup of hot tea. She was shivering, and he was none too warm himself. She took a sip and handed him the cup. Oh, how far they had come from the days of her trying to claw his face off. Though, should he deserve it, he didn’t doubt her little right hook could do some damage. 

“Are you guys frozen or what?” Jaskier turned to his assistant. “Don’t they look like the cutest pair of naked little Otter Pops?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled. 

“Right, yes. Swim a few laps to warm up if you want and we’ll get right to it. We’ll go with some standard, chaste kisses, and then see how far you can get into something French. Without drowning of course.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes and Yennefer pursed her lips with a mock salute. 

“Race you to the end and back.” He needed to get some blood pumping in his veins or their teeth would be clanging together from the cold.

“What did I say about betting with you?” 

“It’s not a bet, only a race. I’m racing a competitive swimmer when I’m not one – Hey! Fuck!” She whipped from the wall and swam like a fish toward the opposite end. He tore off the wall behind her and pushed his large frame through the water as fast is it would go. 

By the time he reached the opposite wall, she was halfway back, floating on her back and pretending to check her imaginary watch, mocking him. _Son of a –_ he took a mighty breath and pushed through his exhaustion, intent on finishing strong. 

She underestimated how fast his height and long strokes made him, and didn’t cease her floating stunt when she should have. They ended up neck and neck, both slamming their palms on the wall fairly close in time. 

“Did anyone see?” She called. So she _did_ care. 

It was clear that quite a few of the crew had seen who was truly first, but none were brave enough to come forward. She turned to him, both breathing hard. “Are we that scary?”

Jaskier enlightened them. “Absolutely terrifying. I honestly don’t know which one of you is worse. Now kiss.” 

\------

:: _“Tell me again why I’m here, why it has to be me?”_

_This time Athena let him wear his normal attire, his heavy boots loud on the marble floors of Poseidon’s palace. “You have a vested interest in this council, and in this conflict. I presume you haven’t forgotten that had we not intervened, she would be on the front lines with her father?”_

_He grunted. He was unlikely to ever forget the feeling in his gut when she told him Eirene would die in the upcoming battle. The entered the great hall and the crowed parted. He followed Athena up to the dais, and the conversations in the room stopped. Five marble thrones sat close together, occupied by Triton, Poseidon, and two men he presumed to be the husbands of her sisters. The last was empty, he figured it was Eirene’s._

_“What is the meaning of this Athena? Bringing a mortal into my home.” He turned to Perseus, “What have you to say for yourself, boy?”_

_That stung, but best not to anger the man who could strike him down with a snap of his fingers and a single bolt of lightning. “Stop this war. The mortals aren’t any closer to finding this island and disrupting your rule than they’ve ever been.”_

_“Who are you to even suggest political or military strategy to me? Guards, remove him.”_

_Athena stepped forward. “He’s my brother, Perseus, son of Zeus. He has lived among the mortals and assures you this conflict will only bring pain and suffering.”_

_Triton leaned in his seat. “He is the one, father, I believe it was he I saw at the ball.”_

_Poseidon’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll not take advice from a witch who plots against me and her half dog demigod brother who likely possesses the wits of a snail. Go, both of you, before I remove you myself.”_

_Athena tried again. “Don’t be swayed by your son’s aggression and hunger for war. I warned you, you’ll lose what you hold most dear if you don’t entertain reason.” He motioned his guard to advance on them. She and Perseus took their leave, unsuccessful in preventing the future loss of gods and mortals alike._

_Just before they crossed the threshold out of the room, Poseidon began bellowing. “Find her. I don’t care what it takes or who you have to kill, bring my daughter back, or don’t return at all.”_ ::  
———

-Yennefer-

She stood in Cahir’s elegantly decorated foyer, wringing her hands together, her nerves frayed.

“Like I said, it’s no one’s fault, and I’m so sorry, but it just isn’t working out.” 

“Yes. I heard you the first few times you mumbled it. I think it _is_ someone’s fault, but conveniently he’s not in the room right now.” Cahir turned on his heel and headed for the massive kitchen, most likely to down a glass of his expensive cognac. 

“I’m going to go, but if you need to talk about anything - I’ll answer.” Her hand was on the door handle. 

“You do that Yennefer, run to the phone when I call, won’t you!” He was yelling by the time he finished. “You aren’t anything to him, you know that right? You’re nothing special in this industry. I thought you understood that by now, but if you haven’t gotten a clue yet, you never will.” 

She stepped outside the front door and pulled it closed behind her. Something shattered against it before the latch clicked.

———

:: _Perseus’s crew was tickled pink to anchor off of the coast. They didn’t care that it was an island none of them had heard of, nor that it would be gone should they try to return. Eirene had retrieved the treasure from the sunken ship’s hold, it was still precisely where Perseus told her it would be. The men were paid their back wages due, and gifted with a much less tyrannical captain._

_He walked through the thick forest, west from the estuary like she had showed him after Poseidon’s masquerade. It began to rain, and he clutched the small bundle closer to his chest as he neared the little hut. She heard him coming and pushed open the cloth, watching him approach with a wide smile on her lips. Instead of her normal breeches, she wore a violet dressing gown, tied loosely under her bust. He recognized it from one of her late night visits to his cabin. They seemed a lifetime ago._

_He picked up his pace and she leaned into his arms when he reached the doorway. He hadn’t seen her for nearly two weeks and had yet to tell her about his futile trip to reason with her father. He could swear that every time he kissed her she tasted sweeter, her lips soft and sure against his._

_She pulled back, “Come inside before you catch your death.” She had her candles lit, but there was still a definite chill in the air._

_“We need to get you a proper door, or better yet, a proper home.”_

_“This little place has served me well, and it will be fine until I figure out just what it is I’ll be doing.”_

_“There is a house on the outskirts of the village. Well within walking distance of the book shoppe, a stable right on the grounds. If the lady of the house agrees, we can start moving your things there immediately.”_

_“Does she need housekeeping done, or schooling for her children? I’m well read, but I don’t know that I’ve kept up with arithmetic and -“_

_He stopped her. “ _You_ are the lady of the house. I just purchased it.” _

_She searched his face, waiting for him to admit he was teasing her. “Truly?” He smiled and she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” She whispered into his damp cloak._

_“I plan to live there too, so don’t think it was wholly unselfish of me.” He pulled back and began unfolding the cloth bundle he brought with him. “Another surprise for you, this one coming with regards from my bastard of a blacksmith.”_

_He held a wickedly sharp dagger in his hands, almost identical to the one he wore on his hip. The handle was smaller than his to accommodate her petite hand, but the blade just as skillfully wrought and deadly. “We had a few words when I picked it up, but it’s settled.”_

_“Don’t tell me you hit him.”_

_“Only once. Honestly, he was pleasantly surprised. I was sure to make it clear that my merciful generosity sourced only from your pleas that I refrain from maiming him.”_

_“That’s sweet of you my love.” She grinned before running her fingertips along the steel handle. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” He showed her the leather sheath Icarus had fashioned, and the holes he punched into the material to let water flow through. It attached to a thin leather belt that she could tighten around her waist and wear it in the water._

_Rain tapped on the thatched roof as she set the dagger on the small desk gently and guided him to sit on the edge of the cot. She stood between his knees, her bare feet comically small next to his large, muddy boots on the wooden floor. “I’ve a surprise for you as well, though, perhaps you won’t think of it as a gift.”_

_She untied the silky belt that held her gown closed and pulled it to the side. She was naked underneath, and it took only a moment for his roving eyes to stop and fixate on the swell of her belly. He froze, she wasn’t sure if he even breathed, until he reached up and traced his fingertips across the indent of her belly button to the subtle flare of her hip._

_When he looked up and met her eyes, her lip was pinned under her teeth, nervous for his reaction. Finally he opened his mouth, his expression was awed and his voice thick with emotion, “Not a gift?”_

_Her shoulders sagged slightly with relief and he eased her down to sit on his thigh. He spread his warm palm across her smooth skin and she ghosted her lips across his temple. He turned her chin and kissed her soundly. When their lips parted, her soft yawn brought him back to reality._

_He slid his boots off and stripped down to his small clothes, climbing underneath her blankets and folding her against his body. He tucked her head under his chin and splayed his hand over her abdomen. He bent and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, “Thank you, my love.” She hummed her response._

_“It might be best for you to sail with me in the morning. Your father is looking for you, going so far as to deploy a hunting party.”_

_She winced. “He is terribly angry with me I’m sure.”_

_“If he wasn’t before, he will be now.” He tucked her cold feet between his warmer ones. “Athena and I were unsuccessful in our attempts to get him to see reason. There will be a conflict, and the death toll will be high. Her seer had a premonition, and in it you didn’t make it through the battle alive.”_

_“That’s why you let her drag you to the masquerade.” She whispered, realization in her voice._

_“Yes.”_

_She baited him, “And all this time I thought it was because you missed me.” She smiled when she felt his growl against her back._ ::

\------

-Yennefer-

A sharp knock sounded on her trailer door. She opened it, surprised to see Geralt on the other side. 

“I need a favor. How do you feel about animals?” 

She wasn’t expecting that kind of a request from him, or any really. They hadn’t seen much of each other in the past few days, many of the scenes the crew was filming were filler shots and a few featuring Vesemir, Ragnar and Sabrina – “god” stuff. “I love animals, who doesn’t?”

“Enough to ride in a car with one for a few hours and maybe get peed on?”

“The pee is, coming from the animal right?” 

He snorted, “Yes. Well, hopefully not. I’m going to pick up a puppy, and I was hoping someone could hold him while I drove so I didn’t have to put him right in the crate.”

“You’re getting a dog? From a breeder? Here, come in.” She backed away from the door and let him in. Her space was neat and tidy, and full of pictures. He recognized her mother, what must have been her father, and a teenager who’s hair was almost as light as his naturally was. 

“That your dad?” He motioned to the cluster of photos. 

She smiled, thinking of her family. “Yeah, he owns a bakery in London – Strazzanti, I don’t know if you know it. And that’s my sister, Pavetta.”

“Holy shit, I’ve had breakfast there before, top notch stuff. You should invite them down again. I’m not scared of your mom, she likes me.” He gave her a cheeky smile. 

Her face fell a bit. She hadn’t told them about Cahir yet, she was trying to keep the _I told you so’s_ at bay. “This pup is from a breeder?”

“Oh, yes, well technically. One of the animal rescue groups I support got them shut down, and now this last batch of little guys need homes. You don’t want to know about the conditions the animals were in. They’re Eurasiers. Massive fluff balls that need attention, but good for security and good with people, kids. You know. “ 

She raised her eyebrow at the _kids_ part. It made sense though, he probably was lonely for constant companionship. Women came and went and he was slow to trust and open up to people. She supposed the fact that he even asked her to go was something she should be proud of.

“Everyone else was busy, weren’t they?” 

“Absolutely everyone. I promise I wouldn’t spring this on you if I didn’t have to ask.” 

“Well, I’m honored and insulted at the same time.” She grabbed a small blanket from her linen closet. “Let’s go puppy papa.” 

\------

Only he would go to pick up a brand new dog that wasn’t housebroken in a sports car. “The bright red doesn’t surprise me, but that fact that it’s old does. You penny pincher you.” 

“Old! Cheap? This is a classic American muscle car. A 1969 Chevy Corvette Stingray with a 4-speed manual transmission and 430 horsepower.” He looked up from his outraged tirade to find her smirking at him. “And you’re fucking with me. Pick your battles Giancardi.” 

“I’m doing you a favor, I win them all today.” 

The sun was shining bright in the sky and he put the top down, puppy supplies behind her seat. The warm, tan leather felt nice on her back. It was warm out, and all she was wearing when he showed up was a flattering halter top that draped down her chest and her favorite soft leggings. His black t-shirt pulled tight on his chest when he reached for his sunglasses from the center console and started the engine. 

She pulled her sunglasses from her bag, the same aviators he wore, and he gave her an inquisitive look. “What? I like them because they make me look bitchy. Then I don’t have to talk to people.” He shook his head and pulled onto the highway. 

They drove down the coast, warm sea air in their faces. She’d left her hair long for Eirene, and it would be a mess if she let the wind take it so she wound it over her shoulder in a loose braid. They subtly fought over the radio station until he let her win, the sound of her soft lilt actually in tune with the music. “Don’t tell me you can sing as well?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Not record deal worthy or anything, just a hobby. As well?” She looked back out the window, “You saw my sketch book.” She didn’t sound pleased.

He nodded. 

“I had hoped maybe I rolled on it in my sleep. Don’t tell the others I drew them, please.”

He agreed with a shrug, though his expression was somewhat confused. He already knew so much about her that she hadn’t planned on sharing with others, and it made her nervous to leave herself exposed even with something as simple as a little art hobby. It was bad enough Geralt had seen her sketch of him, but Jaskier would certainly never let her live it down.

\------

-Geralt-

They stood in the grass, fenced in a pen, being attacked by tiny fluff bears. The older couple who were fostering the dogs watched and talked with them. Yennefer looked like she might cry. He touched her elbow, maybe this was too much for her. 

“I want them all.” 

He grinned, if he could take care of them all he would. The woman told them that the pups with blue, green and teal ribbons were males and the pink, purple and red were female. Yennefer sat on the grass and let them crawl all over her, the dog with the blue ribbon tugging off her sandal and she laughed. They thought the new lady that came to play was great fun as she held one of the females to her face so she could lick her cheek. 

The woman snapped a photo of Yennefer. “I don’t mean to be rude, but these little guys will fly out of here when I put that shot on our page.” 

She had gotten a feel for five of the dogs, all except the male with the teal ribbon. He sat at Geralt’s feet. The fluffy little thing watched it’s siblings pile on her, and looked up the pant leg that towered over his face. “Geralt, are you seeing this adorable little boy?” 

He nodded. The dog had plopped down next to his foot as soon as he’d stepped into the pen. She leaned over and held her hand for him to sniff. He determined she was okay and gave her a lick, and sat back down right on Geralt’s foot. “Awe, he’s so sweet. See if he’ll follow you.” 

He walked to the other side of the pen and sure enough the dog followed him like a little gosling. It was settled, he couldn’t leave his new sidekick behind. Yennefer continued to play with the dogs while he filled out the paperwork necessary to adopt him. In the blank for name, he wrote _Kosmos_. He thought a Greek name would be fitting since the dog would spend his first few years on the set. 

The older man came to take the paperwork from him, little Kosmos playing with his siblings again since Geralt had vacated the pen. “Good choice son.” The old man shook his hand. 

“Thank you, I intend to give him a loving home as best I can.” 

He barked out a laugh. “I meant your wife.” 

“Oh, oh no. Yennefer is my coworker.” She was talking to the dogs, ‘ _no, do not bite your brother that isn’t nice,_ ’ and ‘ _oh, my heart, what a sweet baby,_ ’ could be heard over the little fence.

“Sorry about the mistake. Don’t take this the wrong way, but where the hell do ya’ work?” They both shared a laugh. 

Yennefer stood and the dogs began to yowl, they were losing a playmate. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but could I use your ladies room? It was a long drive.” The old man showed her into the house. Geralt could swear he heard him say, “Make him buy you a nice dinner honey.” 

Yennefer and the older couple came back outside after a few minutes, the sun beginning to set beyond the tree line. “Okay, please pose with your new baby!” The woman held her camera excitedly. Geralt held the tiny dog, a wide, genuine smile on his face. “Now with mom in it too!” 

“Oh, I’m not –“ 

The woman insisted, looking horribly offended that she wouldn’t pose with Geralt. She gave in and whispered an apology to him as he wrapped his free arm around her. It really wasn’t a big deal, and the husband wasn’t correcting her, so he had a feeling they were being mischievous to begin with. The woman took her pictures and he handed Yennefer the dog, watching over her shoulder as she cooed and pushed the fur out of his eyes. The woman took her last photos and handed the camera to her husband. 

Geralt cleared his throat. “Well, he looks tired and it’s getting late. Thank you so much for the opportunity with him.” Geralt gave them his social media accounts so they could follow as he posted pictures, they shook hands again and loaded up in the car. He put the top up and hoped the loud exhaust wouldn’t spook the dog. The couple waved from their front porch and Yennefer moved the dog’s paw in a little wave back to them. He shook his head, he couldn’t tell if that was her age, or just _her_. He was pretty sure it was the latter.

It was dark by the time they got back on the highway, and he was starting to feel bad about the man’s comment. He had all but kidnapped her that morning and never fed her. “What can I get you for dinner? I know it’s late, but my treat of course.” He dropped a glance at the dog, snuggled in her blanket against her chest. 

“Anything is fine, fast food, whatever.” She ran her fingertips down his back until he fell asleep. By the time Geralt pulled into a town that had a few restaurants, she was fast asleep along with Kosmos. He snapped a photo of the two and sent it back to her phone, with a text, “Yes, you did too fall asleep. I’m winning every argument right now.” 

\------

“Pull over!” The dog was nipping her arm, she was pretty sure he had to potty. He put the car in park and she snapped the little leash on his tiny collar. She set him in the grass, where he immediately emptied his bladder and made a puppy size poo. The highway was fairly empty as Geralt walked to the passenger side and gave Kosmos some fresh water. 

“We’re lucky he woke you up. There’s a chicken wrap and an ice tea for you inside.” He gave Kosmos a little bowl of kibbles to hold him until they got back to his condo. 

She sat across the seat with her feet hanging over the grass. “I was not asleep.” 

“Damn, I’m good. Check your phone.” He watched her face when she saw his messages. She knew when she’d been beat. She clicked into her Instagram and gasped, flipping the phone so he could see it. The woman had posted the candid photo of her holding Kosmos, both of them in Geralt’s arms like they were bringing their baby home from the hospital. She had sent them copies of the other photos already, but of course she chose to post that one. 

He picked up the bowls from the grass and put the dog back in her lap. “I’m sorry, Cahir is going to have an issue with this. If you want me to go with you to explain the circumstances I will.” He closed the passenger side door and got back in his seat. 

She fussed over the edges of the blanket, tucking them around Kosmos’s furry head. “Please don’t say anything to anyone yet, but here’s the thing about that.” 

\------

-Jaskier-

Geralt pulled Jaskier aside the next morning. He didn’t like the idea of Yennefer and Cahir being left alone on set until the man had a chance to cool down. 

“So please, do not tell anyone. Not even Sabrina. I just wanted you to know so you can keep an eye on Cahir. He was particularly vindictive after he broke up with Lena, and I doubt he’s going to take it well since _she_ pulled the plug and they still need to work together.” 

“Why’d she tell you and not me? I’m likeable, I’m lovable. I’m the big brother she never wanted, not you. You’re the mean jock down the street that throws rocks when we ride our bicycles by.” 

Geralt summoned all the patience he could. “Sometimes, I wonder how you manage to keep it all together man. I just told you, she doesn’t want to spread it around just yet. She feels bad, God knows why, but she doesn’t want to make it worse for him, so just don’t say anything.” 

“Poor Yenna. I wonder when she’ll be ready to date again. You know, your brother’s getting up there in age. He said he was excited to land a contract close to home, I think he’s looking to settle down. I bet he’d be into her, she’s certainly his type – young and gorgeous. Though, you’d have to see her at family functions and things. You two would be flinging food across the room trying to tear each other to shreds while poor Eskel chased after their kids. My god though, they would have beautiful babies, with her eyes and his bone structure – “

Geralt interrupted him with a snort. “I have the same god damned bone str-“ His nostrils flared when he realized the words were coming out of his mouth. “She is a friend, and I’m just saying to please –“

“Since when are you friends? I thought she couldn’t stand you.” 

“Coworkers, my coworker would appreciate it if you would keep your eyes open and shut the hell up.” 

Jaskier took him by the shoulders. “Geralt, how long have I known you, how long have we been friends?” 

“University, seven or eight years.” 

“Listen to me when I tell you this. Cancel your date with Kiera on Friday, she’s in town again isn’t she?”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure you’ll be able to get it up with her.” He cuffed Geralt on the bicep and headed for his office. 

\------

Jaskier cupped his hands over his mouth to be heard over all the actor’s side conversations. The entire cast was present, from Vesemir in his Poseidon garb down to Dara in full naval getup. “Alright my lovelies, the time for promotional shots has come! Well, newer, better and sexier shots that scream, we got picked up for more seasons so buckle up bitches!”

“Jaskier, you should be a motivational speaker.” Yennefer smiled sweetly behind her joke. 

“I’d buy that twelve disc set.” Geralt seconded her dig. 

“ _You two_ will behave, or this shoot will go on for days. And when I mean days, I mean -” 

Sabrina spoke up. “Just take the pictures before we all walk away honey.” 

“I’ve lost control of everything. It’s every man for himself.” He muttered. 

Yennefer was dressed in a beautiful Grecian gown similar to the one Eirene had worn to the ball, and Geralt was decked out in clean and tidy breeches and a flowing shirt. She was wearing the cuff Icarus had given Eirene and they both donned their matching daggers, though hers was hidden.

The afternoon flew by and they took a hoard of shots, with all different combinations of the group in different poses. Actors were dismissed pair by pair until they got to a core group of four. Sabrina and Ragnar were the last to pose with Geralt and Yennefer. 

Jaskier posed Eirene at odds with Triton, and asked her to bunch up a section of her skirt and reveal the dagger strapped to her thigh. Perseus and Athena glared at each other in the same vein. “Oh that’s wonderful, Geralt you’re annoyed as fuck and perfect, I think you were born with that scowl. Ragnar, she’s holding a dagger to your throat but she’s still just a pip squeak – yes, there we go.” 

“Okay thank you! Just a few more for you Triton and Athena but a quick costume change upfront.” Predictably, Geralt lost his shirt, and out came the tail. Salma and the costume designer made quick work of it and left her in a baggy shirt. She laid on the floor, talking to Sabrina while they changed props and brought in one of the intricate chairs from Perseus’s cabin. 

“Jaskier? Am I wearing my hair for this? It’s fine but just make sure there’s no billboard near my parent’s house okay? God, or by the bakery – I think my father would sell the whole business just to get away from it.” 

He checked his trusty clipboard. “Ah, let’s see. Yes, the first couple shots, but after that no.” 

She sat up, “You want me topless for promotional stills?”

“No, you’re wearing Geralt.” 

The man himself started paying attention when he heard his name. She tried again, “As in, he designed my top? A bikini?”

“His arm is your top. Don’t worry, it’s a big arm.” 

Geralt got settled on the big chair, Sabrina behind his left shoulder and Ragnar behind his right. Chireadan deposited her on his lap delicately, she handed Salma the shirt, covering herself with Eirene’s long curls. She whispered, “Did you know about this?”

He whispered back concerned, “No, are you uncomfortable? We’ll tell him to fuck off.” 

“No, it’s alright. I just wasn’t ready. Apple juice rule stands, for you too, okay.” She felt his ‘Hmmmm’ of agreement against her back. 

They took a few shots and then Salma ran forward to drape her dark hair down her back, and angle her in his lap a bit so he could wrap his arm over her breasts. 

“See, I told ya, it’s not bad.” Jaskier ran the camera over and showed her the last photo in the viewfinder. She supposed his arm did cover almost as much as a bikini would have, but the photos were… provocative. “Just because we take it doesn’t mean it’ll even get picked to be used. Trust me?” She nodded. 

“Yenna, look back up at Geralt. Good! Triton and Athena you’re good to go, thank you!” He came closer and began taking shots of just the two of them. “Tone it down on the lighting please,” he called over his shoulder. 

“Touch his jaw, look at him longingly, like you won’t see him for a long time. Ger, look straight ahead and ignore her, crabby. Okay, now back down at her – Yenna, bite your lip a bit. Run your hand over into his hair, Ger, tilt your face to hers, right there – noses nudging.” 

Her lashes fluttered closed of their own volition, her lips were a mere inch from his and she could smell the remnants of the wintergreen mints he ate by the hand full. Her nipples were hard against the coarse hair on his arm, every subtle movement of the air in her lungs sparking heat between her legs. 

They were so close, when her eyes closed he had to stop himself from leaning his mouth against her plump lips. He knew she tasted unbearably sweet, and she gave as good as she got, but he wanted them for himself. Not the same practiced motions Eirene gave Perseus. He ached to slide his arm over and stroke her breast, the pressure of her warm thighs in his lap making his head swim. 

Suddenly she closed the gap and pressed her lips to his, ever so gently. She was pulling away by the time he comprehended what she’d done, and he chased her, tightening his arm and tugging her closer against his chest. Her rear settled on his cock just right and he nearly groaned, settling for thrusting his tongue past her lips instead. She made the tiniest whimper and tangled her fingers tighter in his hair. 

Someone cleared their throat. 

She recovered faster. “I’m sorry Jaskier, what was that last instruction?” Geralt was still in purgatory, the drag of her nipples and the weight of her against his cock working in tandem to short circuit his brain.

“Um, noses nudging – but that was a few minutes ago. Hmmm, maybe we’ll have Geralt stand and hold you in his arms.”

Jaskier was a bastard. 

\------

-Geralt-

“Hot dog?” Jaskier held the charred meat off the grill with a pair of tongs. Vesemir, Dara, and Yennefer had also been invited to the small, informal get together at Jaskier and Sabrina’s condo. 

“Nah, put me down for some of that chicken.” 

“You still mad at me for the other day?” 

“For what, expecting me not to make out with your lead actress in the middle of a shoot? No, I don’t get to be mad.” Kosmos skirted around his feet, excited about the yummy smelling air out on Jaskier’s balcony. 

He flipped the row of hamburgers. “She kissed you first, you know.” 

“I can’t blame her, you stripped her practically naked and dumped the poor thing on my lap. I don’t know what it is about her, but something about how irritating she is, while at the same time I need to be around her. I don’t understand it and it’s starting to piss me off. Not to mention, she’s going to get a restraining order if she feels me on her leg again.”

“Do something about it.” 

“I tried! I had a date with Keira and you made me cancel it. My right bicep is exhausted.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

The door opened inside, and they could see through the glass patio doors that it was Yennefer. She wore a little purple sundress and a pair of high wedges. She greeted Sabrina with a hug, handing her a container of desserts. A woman walked in behind her, and was introduced as Philippa, a gorgeous brunette with a near perfect body and piercing hazel eyes that reminded her of Geralt’s. She was in town meeting the cast as she would play a major role in season two of the show.

Delilah fussed in her seat on the counter and she was promptly handed over to Yennefer for soothing. She slid the patio door open with her free hand, “Can we come out here for some fresh air or is it manly men only?” 

“Jaskier’s here isn’t he? Come on out.” Geralt closed the door behind her and Kosmos went wild when he heard her voice. 

“She doesn’t have any allergies does she, dogs?” Jaskier shook his head. She sat down in one of the wicker deck chairs, Delilah still whimpering and teary. Kosmos climbed on her leg with his front paws, eager for her to pick him up as well. 

Geralt set him in her lap, and after he bathed her face with kisses, rooted around in her dress in circles and plopped down to sleep. “I can’t believe she’s almost six months old, she’s so cute.” She began to sing softly, her cheek against her fine blonde hair. Delilah had been beside herself while Sabrina was shooting a few weeks prior, and it was determined that Yennefer’s voice was actually that of a baby whisperer when she was able to calm her down. 

“She _is_ pretty cute. Are you sure Sabrina didn’t take any trips last year?” Geralt smirked.

“Bro, you’re killing me. I’m gonna burn all this chicken just to piss you off.” 

“Hey, not all of it please.” She objected in a whisper. 

“Of course you want chicken too. You sure I can’t sell you on a hot dog? They’re foot longs, they don’t mess around. You’ll never go back to that plain old chicken. ” Geralt smacked him in the shoulder.

She ignored Jaskier's double entendre, rubbing Delilah’s back and stroking Kosmos’s neck. 

“Quit making fun of me and watch your own house, that dog couldn’t give a shit about you when she’s around.” Jaskier pointed to her lap with the spatula. “What was that you sang, Yenna?”

The baby was drooling, the dog snoring and she was trapped in the chair. “ _Mi Mancherai_ , in Italian it means ‘I miss you’.”

Jaskier looked impressed. “That is classy as all hell.” Sabrina motioned for him to come in the kitchen and he put Geralt in charge of the grill while he went to see what she needed. 

Geralt sat in the seat next to her, a sleepy smile on her face. “Did you fall under your own spell?”

“Just a little bit.” She admitted. “Do you want to hold her?” 

“The last time I did she practically fit in my hand. What are the rules for six month olds?” 

She leaned forward and tucked Delilah in his arm gently. She gave a little grunt, but didn’t wake, the new set of arms just as warm as the last. “No strict rules, don’t flip her upside down and just give her back to her papa if she’s stinky.” Yennefer bent her nose to her sandy blonde hair, “Just clean, adorable baby.” 

Kosmos was alert, his head raised and eyes fixed on the foreign thing in Geralt’s arms. He titled his furry head, confused. “Awe, he’s jealous.” She scratched under his chin and he leaned into her hand. “It’s alright sweetie, you’re still daddy’s favorite.” 

He had to consciously ignore the way she referred to him as daddy. What the hell was wrong with him, he was turning as perverted as a teenager when it came to her. 

“I’m sorry, again, about the promo shoot.” 

“It’s not your fault. I got caught up in the moment and went too far. It was a mistake.” 

He didn’t quite think it was a mistake. “What if –“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Geralt!” Jaskier whipped open the door and moved quickly to save his prized hot dogs. Her father’s outburst had Delilah awake and in tears again, the dog barking at her loud cries. 

-Yennefer-

Vesemir poked his head out to see what caused the cacophony, and smiled when he saw Geralt with the baby. “Should have known you were upsetting the women Thornwald.” His gruff tone harmless. Geralt offered her and he held his arms out, the crying slowed when she became fascinated with his bushy grey beard. 

“Geralt, he needs a walk.” Kosmos was wriggling around on her lap, anxious to be put on the ground. He pulled the leash from his pocket and handed it to her. Jaskier piled the meat on a platter and they went inside. Geralt introduced himself to Philippa who promptly offered to go with him to walk Kosmos. 

Yennefer was surprised, “Oh, of course.” She smiled and handed her the leash. Sabrina put a plate of food in her hand and she watched them walk out the door. She absentmindedly chewed on a carrot from her plate, her mind somewhere distant. 

“Cahir couldn’t make it?” Sabrina asked as she fussed over everyone’s beverages. It was only Jaskier, Vesemir and Dara, they would find out eventually. 

“We broke up. It’s all right, it was bound to happen I think.” 

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She crossed around the island to give Yennefer a hug. “I’m also not sorry. You deserve so much better.” 

“We just didn’t fit is all. Hopefully all the awkward moments on set are in the past, I apologize for those.”

Vesemir spoke up above Delilah’s head. “Not your apology to make, there’s no need.” 

Yennefer nodded and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I think I need to head home, my headache from this morning is getting worse. Can you please put my plate in the refrigerator? You still need me to babysit tomorrow night right?”

Sabrina reassured her that she didn’t have to go, but the door opened and Philippa and Geralt came back laughing with one another. Her stomach hurt too, maybe she was dehydrated. She kissed the baby on the cheek and slipped out in the chaos of getting the newcomers plates and Kosmos’s excited jumping. 

\------

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “Thank you for joining us again Geralt and Yennefer. This week we have a game if you would humor me. We have some emoji’s that represent some popular film titles, you can shout out the answers if you know them!”

She held up the first card:

*angel* and *man with baby*  
Yennefer: “Oooo, dad, holy dad….um”  
Geralt: “…………………The Godfather.”

Y: “Damn, alright, I’ll do better next time.” 

*calendar* and *moon* and *thermometer*  
Y: “Oh my god, what?” She laughed.  
G: “……………………..Saturday Night Fever.” 

Y: “What! How the hell did you get that?!” She whirled around to give him a shocked look.

*orange* and *book*  
Y: “Okay, um fruit, pages, stories - fruit files..”  
G: He shook his head at her answer, “Pulp Fiction.” 

Y: “I hate you.” 

I: “Don’t feel bad Yennefer, my mind doesn’t work this way either. Here’s the last one.” 

*stairs* and two *boys*  
Y: “Oh! OH! Stepbrothers!”  
G: He smiled. 

I: “Awe, yes! Thank you both so much for playing! I’d also like to thank everyone who donated to Second Chance Animal Rescue in the past few weeks, a worthy cause very near and dear to Geralt’s heart!” 

G: “Truly, thank you all. I’ll be matching your donations from the last week, and fifty kind people were chosen at random for a meet and greet with photos and autographs with myself. As a bonus Yennefer has offered to join me, so if you have any _Altantis_ merchandise you want signed, bring it along with your sharpies.” 

———

-Yennefer-

“Are you sure?” She doubled checked, but the young man nodded enthusiastically. She bit her lip in concentration, the sharpie sliding across his abs as he held up his shirt. Geralt was signing a woman’s collarbone and listening to her talk about her rescue dog. 

The next young woman was horribly nervous in front of Geralt, she stuttered and seemed out of breath. He spoked with her calmly while Yennefer signed by her photo on an _Atlantis_ t-shirt. After a few moments the woman was so taken with him she forgot to be nervous any longer. 

He had such a comforting presence, and he genuinely cared about the people in his life. She surprised even herself with how wrong her first impression of him had been. He could come off aloof, a jerk even, but he was far from the abrasive man-whore she first expected. 

A couple wearing _Polytech Marseille_ hoodies brought her a large poster. It was wild to think people had pictures of her, this one likely headed to a dorm room wall. It was an image of the full cast with Perseus and Eirene in the center, his arm wrapped around her middle possessively, intimidating expressions on their faces. She scrawled her name above her head, leaving room for Geralt to write. 

“You’re even more gorgeous in person, I’m so glad we got to meet you both.” Her boyfriend had definitely been dragged there, but she was bouncing on her heels with excitement. 

Yennefer smiled, “Awe, that’s so nice of you. You’re very beautiful yourself, your boyfriend is a lucky guy.” 

“Thank you!” She blushed. “He’s tired of hearing me talk about _Atlantis_ , but I ship Perseus and Eirene so hard. And I’m fully convinced you and Geralt are meant to be together.” 

Yennefer shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. The couple moved over to Geralt’s station and she must have said something similar to him. He smiled while he signed the poster and told her, “She’s out of my league.” 

———

-Yennefer-

She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, chopping vegetables for a stir fry. The sliding door was open to her balcony, the salty ocean air wafting into her kitchen. She set the phone down and put her father on speaker. 

“Yes, he was upset when I told him, but it had to be said. We grew apart, and I didn’t like the man I saw. Being in the relationship was giving me anxiety, and it was interfering with work.”

“I know that was hard for you. The last thing you ever want to do is disappoint anyone, but I’m glad you recognized that it wasn’t what was best for you. I’m proud of you raven.” Her father had called her his little raven for as long as she could remember. Both of her parents had brown hair, her sister was shock blonde, and her ebony locks were the darkest of them all - like soft raven feathers.

“Thanks dad. I’m sending a kiss through the phone.” She made a kissing sound with her lips and tossed the vegetables in her skillet. 

“Pavetta just came in the office, she’s asking about some man named Darcy?” He sounded confused. 

Yennefer laughed. “Tell her Mr. Darcy got a puppy last week and I’m tolerating him just so I can play with the dog.” 

“She laughed. Is Darcy on your show hun? Oh, your mother just got home and I haven’t watered the garden like I promised. Call me tomorrow if you’re feeling low honey, it’ll pass.” 

“I will dad, love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Adopting as opposed to buying from a breeder saves furry lives. <3 Animal rescue charity is totally fictional. And I know for being a puppy he’s awfully potty trained, but sue me. Mi Mancherai – Josh Groban, I love his voice, and that there is some sleepin’ music! Henry is amazing at those frickin’ emoji puzzles XD


	6. Deep End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A charity gala brings two different men to crossroads in their lives. One in the best, and the other in the worst possible way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Deep End”, by Ruelle  
> Please note - Rating has been changed to E

:: _The sun was already high in the sky when Eirene woke, it seemed she needed more and more sleep as of late. She laid in the soft sheets and ran her fingers over her belly. She could feel the baby move now, and there was no mistaking she was pregnant to an onlooker, regardless of what she tried doing with her clothes to hide it. They hadn’t dared to sneak into her father’s home and get her belongings, so she bought a few things and made due with what she had._

_The bedroom window was open, late morning sun heating the air, his side of their bed long cold. She crinkled her nose, something smelled like smoke. She rose, stretching her back as she walked to the window. Perhaps Perseus was working in the small smokehouse, she had been craving more of the smoked venison he had prepared for them some weeks ago._

_Their home was nestled high on a rolling hill, and from the second story they could see the village and beach below on a clear day. The normally serene port and beach were littered with plumes of smoke and dark with what she assumed were bodies, men._

_Gods no. She put her hand to her mouth. Ships lined the coast, smaller boats ferrying men to the battle. She whirled and checked the wall by his side of the bed. The broad sword he rarely used was gone, along with the brand new set of leather armor Icarus had fashioned for him._

_She flew to the chest of drawers on the opposite wall and began yanking clothes out. Of course he hadn’t told her, he didn’t want her anywhere near the fighting. She pulled on the breeches she had let out in the waist to accommodate the baby. Marcellus had taught her to sew, a task to lowly for Poseidon’s daughter to learn, but essential for a boy who needed to repair sails. She frantically pulled off her shift and tied up one of Perseus’s shirts, grabbing her dagger and leather sheath as she darted from the room._

_She practically flew through the kitchen, filling a pack with medical supplies, cloth for wrapping wounds and tinctures from her different plants used for healing. She stuffed her feet into the leather boots that had just arrived from the cobbler. They reached almost to her knees as Perseus’s did. She ran to their small stable, choking back a sob at the empty stall next to Isolde. She mounted the horse, secured her pack over her shoulder and spurred the mare toward the village._ ::

——

-Eskel-

Perseus’s sword was terribly heavy, so Geralt trained with a much lighter, rubber sword. He and Eskel trained not only on the art of handling the weapon, but on the footwork and choreography of each of the scenes. He knew Geralt wasn’t fond of his request to start early, but this version of his brother was even more surly than normal five am grumpiness.

“No, you’re missing a step in the middle. You’re going to take that twenty pound prop sword to the face if you don’t pay attention.” Eskel shook his head.

“I am fucking paying attention, this sequence is impossible, my stride is too long.” He grumbled, his grey shirt turning dark with perspiration.

“Let’s run it again.” Eskel took the place of Perseus’s large opponent and counted the rhythmic sequence out loud. Geralt landed the missing step, but swung too late on a subsequent lunge.

“Fuck!” He yelled. His shoulders shook and and he squeezed his fists in frustration.

It was only the two of them in the wide open gym, so he backed off and let Geralt blow off some steam. He circled the big room and looped back around. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“Let’s leave that, we’ll just go lift. Your head’s not in it for precision today, no big deal.” He could tell Geralt wanted to argue, but he agreed. “You’re wound tight. When was the last time you had a date?”

“My love life isn’t a part of your training contract, you old monk.” Geralt smirked.

“I’m serious though, something is off with you. And just because you don’t have to chase women to get laid, doesn’t mean I’m not entertaining the ladies.” His rebuttal came just before the heavy metallic slide of a fourty-five pound weight onto the bar propped over the padded bench.

“I’m just not interested in Keira, or putting the effort into meeting someone new. All that time and mindless listening just to spend one night getting my rocks off and worry the whole next day that they might post photos of my dick while I’m sleeping. I’m over models and their shit conversation.” They finished loading the bar, slid the clamps on and he took his position on the bench, Eskel spotting him.

He pulled the bar from the rests and began a set of repetitions. Eskel kept prodding. “It’s a shame that Shani turned out to be a heinous bitch, but you can’t keep living your life with the fear of getting hurt.”

Geralt grunted under the strain of the weights. “Says the man who’s older than I am, single, and didn’t get fucked six ways from Sunday by his ex.”

Suddenly Eskel had an epiphany. “You want the girl. That’s why you’re all bitchy and tense as fuck.” He should have known there was a greater reason for Geralt to snap at his boss the way he had.

Geralt puffed out his cheeks and blew out a measured breath. “What are you smoking?”

“Yennefer. She’s the problem.” He wore a proud smirk.

The heavy bar tipped sideways at the mention of her name, and Eskel jerked into motion to stop the slide and help Geralt loop it over the metal rests.

Eskel couldn’t help himself. “Mom will be so pleased. She’ll want to book the venue for the wedding right away, so don’t play games and wait too long to bring her home.”

“I fucking hate you.”

———

:: _The village square was empty, every able-bodied man fighting for their lives and the women and children in hiding. She said a prayer, hoping that she would find him whole when she reached the sand. She rode swiftly and surely down the river’s rocky embankment, looping wide around the fighting, close to the beach._

_He had done the same thing, his magnificent black stallion was well hidden, tethered to a thick tree. She slid down from Isolde’s back and smacked her flank, sending her back up the river and to safety. The horse would be grazing in their field when they returned. If, they returned._

_She pulled a wool cap over her head, twisting and tucking her long hair, so she wouldn’t draw attention. She ran to the first man she found on the ground, he was gone. As she feared, so many were lost. She recognized men from her father’s guard, and so many from the village. Swords clanged and men screamed in pain, blood running into the sand. Such a senseless waste, it made her sick that her father was responsible for this disaster._

_She kept to the outskirts of the fighting, searching the men for Perseus as she went. She was bent over wrapping a cloth tourniquet around a man who was missing part of his leg when she heard this bellow. Even through the din, she was positive it was Perseus. She knotted the cloth and stood, her hand knocked off the cap as she peered into the sun looking for him._

_Suddenly she saw him, near the water on the front line, sun glinting off his blade as he swung it toward a giant of a man. One of her father’s most favored warriors. He swung, ducked, and swung again, his speed the only thing keeping him upright. She slipped past a man swinging a mace and got closer. The guard managed to separate Perseus from his sword, but he spun, pulled the man tight and slid the wide blade down the guard’s middle._

_The big man fell to his knees and toppled over, a silent scream of agony on his face. Perseus fell to his own knee, and when he turned she saw his dagger buried to the hilt in his chest. She ran._

_He was on his side in the sand by the time she reached him. He was stunned. “It’s alright, it’s okay, let me see it.” She pressed her hands to his chest, trying to stem the flow of blood._

_He groaned, “Eirene, get out of here.” She pulled the dagger out quickly, holding her hand over the wound and fumbling through her bag for the jar of valerian root that would clot the blood that ran between her fingers. The blade had sunk in dangerously close to his heart, but the fact that he was still conscious was a good sign. He could recover if she could get him to a surgeon._

_“Like hell I’m leaving you.” She poured the entire jar and covered him again with both of her bloody hands. “Breathe slowly,” she instructed. Tears had escaped the corners of her eyes and streaked down her cheeks._

_“I love you.” His voice was soft and thready, so unlike him._

_She leaned close and ghosted her lips over his. “Don’t do that. You’re going to -“_

_He saw something over her shoulder, and in a split second pushed against her, rolling her onto her back. He braced his arms on either side of her head and she screamed in horror as three sharp metal prongs pierced through the front of his leather armor from behind._

_The prongs withdrew, and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her father’s roar. Perseus’s arms gave out and he slumped against her, blood beginning to flow down his lip. She leaned back over him, “Perseus, Perseus!” The light was fading from his eyes, and he tried to speak, but his lung was certainly punctured and he couldn’t breathe._

_“No, please, no,” she pleaded, her bloody hands cradled his face. She pressed her forehead against his and he tried to calm her, his warm hand on her waist and a hint of a smile on his red lips. There was so much blood, her shirt was soaked and she knew by the way he trembled he wouldn’t be conscious much longer._

_“I love you,” she wept, stroking his hair and pressing her lips to the corner of his. His shallow, ragged breathing slowed, and she held hers waiting for his next inhale. It never came._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

“Cut!” Jaskier called. “That was lovely guys. Well, it was gruesome and upsetting. Which was lovely.”

Yennefer was still wiping away tears, streaking her face with Perseus’s fake blood.

“Hey, watch it! You’re squishing the baby.” Geralt tried to lighten the mood. He could tell she was upset by the scene, she was still shaking a bit. He sat up on the beach, her in his lap. Someone handed him a towel for the ‘blood’ in his mouth, but instead he used it to wipe her face gently. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath, leaving Eirene behind. “Of course I am. Are you? You look like Edward Cullen the morning after he pledged a fraternity.”

He smirked, “And you look like Juno on the way to tell her parents she and the kid with the shorts did something naughty.”

She scoffed, “Don’t make fun of the belly. I had it on with the breeches yesterday and the new coffee guy threw in a chocolate muffin because he thought I was an unwed teen mother.”

Geralt grunted. “You’re gonna get carded until you’re fourty. He’s a better man than I. I wouldn’t be rewarding an over sexed teen just because she batted her pretty eyelashes and played the pouty little victim.”

“Really,” she leaned close and spoke in a submissive voice, “the ever chivalrous Thornwald wouldn’t take pity on a poor girl in the family way, who’s just looking for someone to love her because she’s all alone the world?” She stuck out her lower lip and batted her eyelashes just the way he said.

His eyes were on her pouty lip, and she could swear he looked as though he wanted to trap it between his teeth.

A loud slam broke her reverie, Jaskier had accidentally dropped a thick binder full of script books. “Who’s week!?” He squawked, frantically searching for his clipboard.

———

-Geralt-  
-The Next Day, Friday-

Geralt had died fifteen times in the past two days and he was glad it was Friday. The production crew had scheduled a rare break in their shooting schedules to accommodate for the heavy emotional scenes and the charity event gala that was being held that night. He walked down the hall of the office building they rented, coming from the sound studio where he’d done some audio replacement for Perseus.

Jaskier’s office looked like a bomb had gone off in it, but that was normal. Cahir’s office was also dark, everything meticulously in it’s place. They hadn’t seen much of him on set as of late, and it was so much easier for both cast and crew to be more at ease as they worked hard.

He checked the time on his phone, his neighbor was coming by the set to pick up Kosmos, as he wouldn’t be home until well into the night. Cerys was fifteen, and he met her and her parents one morning when they were all walking dogs down to the little park near their complex.

They recognized Geralt and introduced themselves, explaining that Cerys walked and exercised dogs for extra money and to call them if he ever needed anything. It wasn’t long before she was Kosmos’s exclusive ‘nanny’, watching him for Geralt whenever his unpredictable schedule required.

Yennefer had taken him for a walk on set, and sure enough he located them by the small circle of people waiting to pet him. Many cast members had already gone home to relax and dress for the evening, but Yennefer had stayed, citing the excuse that she was negligent in her ‘puppy godmother’ duties.

His phone vibrated, “ _We’re here. :) Yennefer isn’t at work today is she? :D_ ” Cerys was enamored with Yennefer, having read an article in a teen magazine featuring her as a young, talented actress. He smiled, “ _Be there in two minutes._ ”

“Yennefer!” He called, waving her over. She said her goodbyes to Kosmos’s harem and jogged toward him, his short little legs flailing happily by her side. She looked almost as carefree as the dog, in jean shorts and a fitted black tee, her wild curls dancing from a high pony tail in time with her stride.

She handed him the leash and they walked the short distance past the grouping of cast trailers, Geralt introducing Yennefer to Cerys and her parents. The girl was star struck, mumbling a bit and more nervous than she’d ever been with him. She opened her backpack, depositing the training treats and one of the dog’s toys he handed her.

Yennefer spoke up, “I don’t mean to be rude, but is that a sketch book I see in your bag?”

The girl lit up like the chandelier in Tiffany’s. “Yes! Do you want to see what I just sketched for my art class?”

“Absolutely, I’d love to.” She smiled warmly.

The teenager pulled some papers out and they were gone into the world of shadowing and a good crosshatch. Only after Yennefer had reviewed and critiqued the whole handful did they finally hand over Kosmos for his little sleepover. Yennefer gave her a hug and her phone number so she could send her pictures of her other work.

“That was nice of you.” He commented, the two walking in step with each other.

“I’m a nice person, I’m just not nice to you. She, was sweet - you’re not.” She gave her explanation like it was information he should already be aware of.

He knew her well enough to know when she was fucking with him. “How do you figure I’m not sweet?” They started down the gravel path leading past the row of trailers.

“I don’t even know where to begin, but I suppose I’ll go backwards chronologically.” She signed heavily, as though recounting his deeds was horribly taxing. “Yesterday, the victim of your beastly antics was the last lemon danish, which I had clearly called ‘dibs’ on. What kind of barbarian doesn’t respect the law of -“

“Fuck it.” He grunted, bending to seal his mouth over hers, framing her face gently with his hands. Not only was it a fool proof way to quiet her argument, but he physically couldn’t hold back any longer. Since the photo shoot, or the afternoon at the stables when she’d easily outwitted him. Hell, since she first tried to scratch his face off months ago.

Her mind caught up with her lips and she responded with just as much heat, leaning close and sliding her hands around his neck. At least he hadn’t misinterpreted the look in her eyes. He ran his tongue across her lips and she opened them, her sweet taste even more heady knowing she wasn’t play acting. She followed his example and her tongue danced against his, her movements careful but sure.

He moved one hand to the small of her back, the other to her chin, angling her where he wanted and forcing her to follow his lead. She made a frustrated noise, but it was forgotten when the hand on her back cupped her rear and brought her hips tight with his.

She gave in and brushed her hands along his chest, tracing them up his broad shoulders while he used his to drag her hips against his erection. Their kisses grew messy and uncoordinated as she stepped on her tip toes and hooked her leg around his thigh.

He got the message and hauled her up against his chest, her shapely calves wrapping around his back. He leaned her against the trailer, his hand protecting her head and a ragged groan in his throat as his cock nestled against the soft cradle of her hips.

She slipped her hand down the back of his shirt and wound the other into his soft, curly hair. She gave a firm tug, pulling his head back and breaking their kiss abruptly. A grunt tore from his lips, golden eyes flashing with desire. He fought back with a hard roll of his hips against hers.

“Geralt -“ her voice was breathy, her chest moving against his as though she was running. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” She eased her grip and he nudged his nose against hers.

His voice fared no better, it was hoarse with lust. “How long?” Her fingernails dug into his back and she ground her hips against his.

“Months,” she whispered, her warm breath against his ear.

“Fuck.” He practically growled. He pulled her away from the cold metal and searched for the door handle as she suckled his earlobe. He yanked the door open hard, carrying her up the steps and slamming it shut behind them. She pulled her mouth from his neck long enough to lean and turn the lock, it’s click loud in the enclosed space even through their labored breathing.

She pulled at the back of his t-shirt as he walked her past the kitchen, taking it with her when she leaned on his bed. He tugged her shirt up and as the material went over her head she realized his bed was almost twice the size of the one in her trailer. He covered her bra clad breasts with his big hands immediately, his thumbs curling underneath the lacy black cups to play at her nipples.

“Son of a bitch!” She shouted, and he froze, his mouth an inch away from her breast. “Your trailer is twice as big as mine!” She lamented.

He grinned, folding the cup of her bra down. “Not the only thing that’s bigger than everyone else’s,” he snarked. She rolled her eyes at his boast, but he thrust his hips against hers and they fluttered shut at the throb of anticipation in her core.

He licked a wide path over her breast and she shuddered when he flicked his tongue against the stiff peak of her nipple. He nudged her to lean up so he could undo the clasp of her bra, peeling it down her arms and tossing it over his shoulder. He leaned back for a moment to take her in. Dark curls strewn across his comforter, her rosy cheeks and swollen lips complimented her dark violet eyes. He cupped her breasts, trying to memorize the image of her creamy, flawless skin under his tanned hands.

“Geralt,” she whined, “hurry.” Her voice broke through his lust clouded mind and he bent over her other breast, dragging his teeth against her flesh before circling her nipple with his lips and sucking hard. “Fuck,” she gasped, her hand falling to the back of his neck and the other gliding up and down the ridges and valleys of his back.

She ground herself against him agonizingly slow, in time with the pulls of his mouth on her tender skin. Her long moan rang in his ears. Jesus Christ, if she kept up like that he would be finishing in his jeans. He released her nipple with a wet sound, capturing her lips once more before laying butterfly kisses over her jaw and down her throat.

Her hands trailed down the rolling muscles in his back as he sunk lower, busying himself undoing the zipper of her jean shorts as he flicked his tongue into the valley of her navel. She lifted her hips and he pulled the shorts down her legs to the floor. He knelt on the carpet, sliding his hands up her thighs and scooting her easily to the edge of the bed. He spread her knees wide, the black lace of her panties the last barrier stopping him from living a month’s worth of wet dreams.

He sucked a small hickey high on her inner thigh, the equivalent of displaying his country’s flag at the top of the mountain, he thought to himself with a smirk. He nudged his nose against the damp lace, her soft intake of breath reaching his ears before he hooked two fingers around the fabric and ripped them clean off.

She “tsked” at the loss of her lingerie, but when she sat up on her elbows to watch him, the view chased her annoyance away. She pinned her lip behind her teeth as he ran two fingers through her folds, spreading her open so he could flatten his tongue and lick wide passes up her slit.

Her head fell back as he buried his face against her sensitive flesh, angling his chin to drag across the length of her. He never wanted to forget her taste, rich and tangy, as his tongue flicked and curled against her core.

He reached up and nudged her clit with his thumb, causing her legs to jerk and forcing a surprised curse past her lips. He slid her knees over his shoulders and a sharp knock sounded on the door. She whimpered, fearing he would pull away, but he carried on, hoping whoever knocked would get the hint and go the hell away.

The knock came again, this time louder. “Geralt?” It was Jaskier.

This time he pulled away a bit, his face coated in her slick from the bridge of his nose to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.” His voice was as strained as the throbbing erection in his jeans. She sat up on one elbow, a wild look in her eyes, her swollen lips parted to accommodate her rapid, shallow pants. She laid her hand over the fingers that had been working her clit, and rolled her hips slightly, desperate for his touch. “YES Jaskier, _what_.”

“Oh, ah, we need to fix one of your scenes with the horse. The horse people are moving them off set for the fall weather and they’re going in a half hour. So I need you, kinda, now.”

“I’ll be right there.” He clenched his jaw. God damnit, his fucking luck. He pushed her fingers aside and circled her clit with this tongue, earning him a raw, “Oh, yes” from above. He replaced his tongue with firm circles of his thumb after a minute or two and returned to his earlier work, this time thrusting deep, mimicking what he planned to do with his cock. He paid attention to the little mewls and moans she tried to keep quiet, repeating the motions that gave her the most pleasure.

He worked his thumb faster and she forgot to try and keep quiet altogether, her heels pressing into his back, unconsciously trying to pull him deeper inside. The muscles in her legs tensed against his shoulders and she forgot to breathe. She fell off of the proverbial cliff with a sharp cry, her back bowing off his bed, thighs quivering against his ears. She pressed her hips into his face, her inner walls clenching against his tongue and her fingers around a handful of his hair.

Her breasts heaved, shiny with a thin layer of sweat, as her harsh pants died off to gentle sighs. He slowed and nursed her through the last tremors, nipping at the mark he left on her inner thigh and kissing his way to her knee. “I’m sorry, but you heard him.” She nodded wordlessly, the room slowly coming back into focus.

He found his shirt on the floor and pulled it right side out, but before he slipped it over his head she used hers to wipe off his face gently. He pulled it on and she ran her fingers through his hair, repairing the snarls and damage her fingers had created. He hooked his finger under her chin and kissed her thoroughly, a soft hum coming from her throat at the taste of her on his tongue.

“Will you be alright?” She was referring to his seemingly ever neglected erection.

“I’ve been like this around you for weeks, I’ll live.”

He rustled around in one of the cabinets and found the riding gloves he was looking for. He turned and walked out the door without a word. It was only half a second before she heard him bellow, “Fuck!”

———

-Yennefer-  
-That night-

She put the finishing touches on her light makeup, her trademark glimmering eyeshadow a must. She checked her small clutch for necessities, and fussed with the ends of her soft curls. She felt awkward attending the dinner alone, but it was being held to benefit families affected by childhood cancers, and feeling embarrassed was nothing compared to what good the event would do.

Her phone chimed, and she checked to see that her Uber had arrived. Her gown was a shimmering satin number, deep purple in color with a beaded bodice. The flattering v-neck lead to dainty straps that wrapped around her shoulders and left her back bare to the waist. It was a full A-line skirt that ended just before the floor, and effectively hid the silver heels that matched her clutch.

She rode the elevator down from the third floor, thanked the doorman, and tugged her wrap tight around her shoulders as she got in the car. She read from the little slip of paper in her hand, “Bonsoir, j'espère que vous allez bien.” She was trying to learn French, but their shooting schedule only allowed her to pick up a word here or there. Geralt usually handled the translating for her when they went somewhere in the city.

She leaned back against the cool leather seat, for some reason it felt less inviting against her skin than the seat in Geralt’s car. Maybe it was the company. He was another reason the evening might prove awkward for her. He would likely be dining with Keira, ravishing and quick-witted as always, wondering why he’d pulled her into his trailer that afternoon.

His quick exit had left her confused. She had lost herself under his touch, and surprised even herself. Maybe he thought she was a freak, or maybe a slut, that she’d let just anyone yank her aside for a quickie. He could just be annoyed that there hadn’t been time to get him off. Whatever the reason, she would have to face him and apologize. They would be working together for the next few years, and it was likely she had yet again, gotten too close to someone she worked with.

Her car pulled up to the lavish hotel and she thanked the driver, carefully extricating herself and the gown. She handed her wrap to the attendant and squared her shoulders to walk into the room alone. Mercifully, Jaskier spotted her and waved her over rather quickly. The table sat eight, Vesemir and his wife, Sabrina and Jaskier, and Geralt with an empty seat to his right and two to his left.

The three men were all terribly handsome in their tuxes, Sabrina’s dress a fitted mermaid cut, no doubt to silence the paparazzi’s incessant questions regarding her baby weight. The group was all smiles and greeted her warmly as she approached the two empty seats, Cahir’s name next to Geralt and her’s by Vesemir.

She had just touched the back of her chair when Geralt reached a quick arm and switched the cards, putting her next to him with a quirk of his lip. Well, he wasn’t disgusted by her actions that afternoon if he wanted her to sit next to him.

“Hey Thornwald, what are you about? I was looking forward to having the two loveliest ladies in the room on my arm this evening. Not to exclude you Sabrina.” He added, giving her a wink.

“Go ahead and lay it on thick old man.” She teased him with a smile.

Yennefer sat in the chair Geralt pulled out for her, shaking her head at Sabrina’s sass. She absolutely loved working with these people, and she was genuinely happy spending time with them. It was a bit like summer camp, you grew unbelievably close with them in a short amount of time, isolated from much of the world.

She was introduced to Vesemir’s stunning wife Margarita, Rita for short. Yennefer gave Geralt a side glance, trying to gauge his mood toward her. He was quiet, but he had never been a chatty person. She longed to ask where his date was, and for that matter, where was Cahir? Geralt’s arm brushed her bare one as he leaned a bit to retrieve a basket of warm rolls.

He put one on his plate and hers, asking Vesemir to pass the glass container by his elbow. Geralt set it in between them, explaining that their waiter had recommended the hotel’s famous sweet butter. He went about slicing his roll and slathering it with the butter before he realized she hadn’t moved.

It was the most mundane thing, but the last time she’d been to a nice meal she had sworn to herself she’d never eat a roll again. Cahir’s critique had stung, and here was Geralt putting one right on her plate, encouraging her to dress it up. “You don’t have to eat it, I will.” He offered, his tone low and only for her ears.

“No, thank you, it smells divine.” He was right, that butter was no joke.

She spared a glance to Cahir’s empty seat that didn’t go unnoticed. “He’s not coming, he texted Jaskier.” Her shoulders visibly sank with relief. Their salads came and went before Yennefer stood to excuse herself to the ladies room. Jaskier held out his open hand towards his wife.

“What?” Sabrina asked.

“Give me your gloves, I know you’re going to follow her.” She laughed, but he smirked when her little silk gloves were deposited into his palm. “You ladies are like a pack of wolves, you never go anywhere alone.”

Yennefer smirked, “She-wolves are reactionary predators Jaskier. We’ve learned to adapt to all you betas lurking around.” They could hear Vesemir’s laugher as they walked from the table.

“Be sure to put some aloe on that burn.” Geralt snarked. She bit her lip, Geralt was sure as hell no beta.

———

Yennefer washed her hands over and over, waiting for Sabrina at the sinks. When the blonde joined her and held her hand under the soap dispenser, she gathered her courage and blurted out, “Can I ask you something personal?”

Surprised, Sabrina smiled, “Of course hun, we’re friends. Ask me anything.” She turned off the water and they both reached for the towels to dry their hands.

“It’s inappropriate, I just don’t know who else to ask. I feel funny asking my friends from university, I haven’t kept up with their lives like I should have.”

“Anything, unless it’s about Jaskier. And in that case I’ll tell you, but I’m not responsible for the emotional scarring.” She joked. She sobered quickly, “You’re ok aren’t you? Do you need me to take you somewhere?”

“Oh no, no, I’m fine. I just, okay here goes.” She blew out a nervous breath and spoke in a low tone. “When you’re, doing _things_ , with a man and you…finish -“

“What things? Be specific honey.”

“When he’s,” she swallowed, “going down on you, and you finish. Is it normal for you to, lose control? Like my legs, and my back, and I just couldn’t stop moaning. God, I don’t think I even let him breathe. Are you horrified? I mean this is the only time that’s ever happened, and maybe I was just overtired, or stressed?”

Sabrina’s smile crept across her face slowly. “I think he’s going to be upset.”

“Really? He didn’t seem like it during, but then I thought maybe he was just covering it up to make it less awkward. He did leave rather abruptly. Fuck my life.” She put her head in her hands.

“No, I don’t mean the man you were with. It felt good right? That’s what you’re looking for every time, and take my advice, if you’re not getting it - walk away. He should be pleased, there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

They made their way to the door, Yennefer reassured that she hadn’t made a fool of herself. “God, I’ve been wasting my life then.”

Sabrina nodded. “I would say you’ve been the victim of selfish men and shitty lovers.”

“Only the one. I had a boyfriend in high school, but after him there was no time for another until you know who.” The door closed behind them. “Wait, who’s going to be upset?”

“Geralt. Sounds like he missed his chance with you.”

———

-Geralt-

The prime rib was excellent, and he made a mental note to come back to that hotel for dinner at some point. He had been fed his share of steak dinners throughout his career, and normally the caloric requirements of maintaining so much muscle mass left him hungry. Although, when Yennefer had switched their plates and given him the other half of hers, that probably made the difference.

He hadn’t been able to talk to her since he rushed from his trailer earlier, and he noticed that with the exception of her comment to Jaskier, she had been quiet. He slipped his hand under the long tablecloth and caressed her knee lightly. “Dance with me?” He asked when she met his gaze. The others carried on chatting, unfazed at their departure.

He led her onto the small dance floor, the only music coming from an antique grand piano, played by an elderly man who gave them a wink when her heels clicked onto the wood flooring. “You know I can’t dance right?” She reminded him, resting her hand on his arm hesitantly.

He took her hand in his, the other going to the small of her back. “I know, I’ll do all the work.”

She took a leap, “Seems like that’s your curse today.” He began swaying her gently to the music, only a few other couples on the floor.

“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind. That you had regrets.” His tried to keep the hope from his tone. The song ended, and the old man launched into a haunting version of Ed Sheeran’s _Perfect_. Other couples flooded the floor for the popular tune, camouflaging Geralt and Yennefer from the event photographer.

“The way you left, I thought maybe you had changed yours.” She wrapped her hand higher and tighter on the back of his shoulder when he pulled her close.

“I was a bit tense, I’m sorry. I did tell you I’m half beast.” He grinned. Their foreheads were close, her perfume as tantalizing as his warm hand on her bare back.

“Perseus is half beast, I don’t quite know what species you are yet.” They were barely moving to the music.

“Life imitates art.” He offered, his voice low. Flashes of the months they spent together as Perseus and Eirene blended into heady memories of that afternoon. The fierce way they bickered, her vibrant laugh, how gentle she could be. He bent and brushed his lips over hers, giving her the choice, and she took it.

Her soft lips pressed against his and they stopped swaying altogether. Her lashes fell, and he squeezed her hand in his, slanting his face to capture her upper lip. She leaned heavily against his chest, her lips firm and eager against his.

The lack of flourishing piano notes permeated his brain, and they pulled apart, desire lit in both of their gazes.

———

-Sabrina-

As soon as Geralt and Yennefer left the table Sabrina hauled Jaskier close and whispered in his ear. “We’re screwed! We’ve lost, the entire pool is obsolete.”

“What? Why? They’ve been attached at the hip more than ever this week!”

“She confided in me, most of which I will never tell you so don’t even ask. But there’s a new man, and he’s very _good_. So don’t you go meddling and ruining things for her.”

Jaskier turned to look over at the dance floor, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not buying it. Who else could she have even been around, they haven’t had much free time at all lately. And I know, because I’m the asshole that made sure they were spending it together and half naked.”

“You are the asshole dear.” She gave him a peck on the lips.

“What if it was him. Did you ask her anything about the guy?” Jaskier’s face was lit up as the idea crossed his mind.

“No, I didn’t, I mean -“

“What if Geralt _is_ her mystery lover? Look over my shoulder, is he crabby and broody like normal or all dopey and smiley like he got laid?”

She looked beyond her husband’s chair to see the pair gently swaying under the pretentious chandelier, a soft smile on his face. “He’s smiling, but I think she made him laugh.”

“Before she got here he was quiet, a little emo even. But that was nothing compared to this afternoon. I had to pull him for a re-shoot with the equestrian people and he yelled at me through the door of his trailer, didn’t even invite me in. And he was even more cantankerous than normal during the shoot.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter before he even finished his thought. “Honey, you interrupted them. Oh my god, the poor thing was getting the first good orgasm of her life and you banged on the -,” she slapped both hands over her mouth to stop Yennefer’s secret from spilling out of her mouth. It was too late.

“Stop, don’t you dare Jaskier. Don’t you say anything. These are our lovely friends and we want to see them happy, not just win a betting pool. It’s not official anyway, _someone_ interrupted them, and the conditions of the wager haven’t yet been met.”

———

-Geralt-

“Does Sabrina know you’re telling me this?” Geralt asked, his eyebrow sky high.

Jaskier and Geralt stood waiting for the coatroom attendant to bring Sabrina and Yennefer’s wraps. “She does not, she explicitly told me not to say anything.”

“Well maybe you should listen -“

Jaskier grabbed his shoulders and shook him, “Man, you’re the first.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed, “You’re full of shit. She dated Cahir.” He shook his head. “And we didn’t even -“

“No, first decent orgasm. Might as well be the full monte. I knew Cahir was an ass, but -“

Geralt stopped him. “Can you do me one favor, one thing please?” The attendant handed them the wraps, and Geralt couldn’t resist lifting it to his nose and inhaling her delicate perfume.

“Sure, yes, anything for the pioneer of pleasure.” Jaskier wiggled his eyebrows.

“Never talk about this again, to anyone.”

———

-Yennefer-

She ran her fingers in between his on the armrest, occasionally losing his hand when he needed to switch gears. She hadn’t argued with him at the valet station when he ushered her into the passenger seat of his car. She had a feeling he wouldn’t have let her take an Uber alone at night anyway, especially when she didn’t speak French.

He drove carefully though the narrow streets of Marseille, the city lights illuminating his high cheekbones and vivid hazel irises. She supposed he had been watching out for her from the beginning, from his irritation at her tolerance of Cahir’s poor treatment to making sure she was comfortable with their emotionally draining or revealing scenes. He had taken Dara under his wing as well, and when she thought about it, that was most likely just the kind of man he was.

He had irritated the hell out of her with his need to always be one step ahead, always cool under pressure, but she realized she had come to depend on him. If he wasn’t constantly pushing her, forcing her to put her all into her career and challenging her, she certainly wouldn’t be as sure and confident with her talent as she felt.

He ran his thumb over hers, his hand strong and slightly calloused. “Are you upset that your date couldn’t make it?” She was fishing and they both knew it.

“I canceled it two weeks ago, along with every date in between.”

She wanted to press him, but the memory of her essentially telling him to fuck off about Cahir was fresh in her mind. He took pity on her.

“Keira specifically, wasn’t upset. She’s met someone, and I’m happy for her.” His tone didn’t waiver, he was genuine.

She went for it. “Why did you cancel them?” She looked straight ahead, apprehensive about his response. He pulled her arm toward his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

She turned quickly, searching his face. He smiled.

———

He walked around the back of the car to help her climb out, the full skirt tangling around her heels. Her shoes had no more than touched the pavement and she was in his arms. He ran his hands over the smooth skin of her back, hers clutching his biceps through his thick dinner jacket. This time it was Yennefer who leaned his frame against the side of the car, their mouths dueling for dominance.

They parted, her breathing harsh as he worked his way across her jaw. “Yours or mine?” His own breathing was none too calm.

“Kosmos?” She slipped her hands inside his jacket to run her nails down his back.

“Cerys has him over night.” He mouthed her earlobe.

“My place is closer.” She reached low and squeezed his ass with both hands.

“Let’s go before this happens right here on the hood.” His voice carried a desperate note with his normal deep baritone.

They walked quickly, as fast as her heels would allow. His arm wrapped around her back and his thumb caressed the side of her breast. She thanked and cursed the backless dress at the same time for not allowing her to wear a bra.

He straightened and they held hands properly before they neared the glass covered foyer, the doorman holding it wide for them. The man winked, he’d seen. “Have a nice night kids.”

“Kids.” She scoffed playfully as they walked toward the elevators. “You’ve gotta be what, thirty-five or forty by now, right?” She hid her smirk.

“If being twenty-seven makes me an old man, then admit you have the hots for older men.” He pushed the button for the elevator.

“Never, I’m only interested in a young stud that can keep up with me.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Have you found one yet?”

“Nope, I - ” The elevator beeped and he rushed forward, tugging her in behind him. The second the doors shut he descended on her, praising the exposed swell of her breasts with his lips and following the plunging neckline lower.

“I guess you’ll have to settle for this old stud.” He kissed his way back up the side of her other breast before stopping at the base of her neck to suckle a small pink bruise. She had noticed the mark he left on her thigh that afternoon in the shower.

“Are you leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in case you get lost?” Her tone was snarky, but her face betrayed her lust while she buried her fingertips against his scalp.

“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed against her skin before releasing her with a soothing pass of his tongue. “I’m old, it could happen.”

She pulled his lips back to hers, his hands sliding down her back to work the tiny row of buttons covering the zipper of her dress. She palmed him through his dress pants and he grunted into her mouth. She knew from filming intimate scenes with him on the show he was well endowed, but all the teasing she had done was about to come back and haunt her.

The elevator dinged, the door had been open for god knew how long and neither of them had noticed. He gave up on the buttons and nudged her hand from the bulge in his pants. He swung his arm under her knees and hauled her against his chest, “Which way?” His stride was long and rushed as he made short work of the long hallway and stopped the the door she instructed.

He set her down so she could rummage through her clutch for her keys while he cupped her breasts and kissed along her shoulder. She slid the key from the lock and shoved the door open, turning to tug him inside by the lapels of his coat. The door closed and before he could turn to lock it behind them, she unzipped his pants and slipped her hand past his boxers to circle his cock.

She took advantage of his surprise and stroked him from base to tip, his groan rattling in his chest. “Yen.” He warned, his voice strained as her other hand joined in teasing him.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, “I get to pick a nickname for you too, right?” He had returned to the buttons at the small of her back and finally pulled down the zipper, slipping his big hands inside the dress and gripping the supple skin of her derrière.

“I was thinking you’d just use _oh god_.”

She closed her eyes against the memory of her shuddering under his touch earlier that day. The smug oaf probably wasn’t wrong. She pulled her hands from his pants and started hurriedly pulling apart his bow tie, he was far too clothed. She flung it across the room and helped him shrug his jacket to the floor behind him. He reached back to unbuckle the cummerbund from behind his waist as she started on the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his newly exposed skin, his crisp chest hair tickling her nose.

He peeled down the fine straps of her dress and slid it past her hips, letting the material bunch in a pile at her feet. He ran his hands up and down her body, skimming over the red satin panties she wore. She reached the bottom of his shirt and pulled it from his pants, running her hands down his thick arms and taking the shirt with her.

She stepped out of the dress, only her heels and the red panties remaining, and caught him staring at her body anew, like he hadn’t seen it all before. Her nipples pebbled under his gaze, gooseflesh prickling across her toned body. “Shoes,” she whispered, urging him to remove them. He didn’t comprehend her instruction, he simply ran his fingers underneath the waistband against her golden skin like he was in a trance.

“Red is your favorite color, isn’t it?”

He jerked out of his reverie, “I never told you that.” She pointed to his shoes and he shucked off the shiny leather.

She stepped between his feet, pressing her breasts to his chest, delicious sensation against her skin. “It didn’t take rocket science. The car, the bike.”

He covered her mouth with his, his tongue diving deep and hands holding her hips close. They parted only for air, and she took his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. She led him into the dark room, pausing to flip the light switch and adjust the dimmer to a soft glow. When she turned, his pants were gone and he tugged off his socks, straightening to present her with a view that made her pause just has he had done.

He caught her staring and she expected a prideful smirk, but instead, the only thing his expression radiated was _need_. They had fooled around long enough. She stalked towards him licking her lips and sunk to her knees between his legs, taking the head of his cock into her warm, wet mouth.

She swirled her tongue over him and and hollowed her cheeks, sinking lower, her dainty hand circling the velvet smooth skin at the base and the other gripping the corded muscle of his thigh. He watched her every move, the way her rosy pink lips glided across every ridge and vein, the way her hand reached down to cup him at the same moment she relaxed her throat and began taking him deeper.

“Yen.” He slammed his eyes shut and growled a curse when she hummed in response. “This’ll be over if you keep, - _Jesus_ , _Yen_.”

She obeyed his request and released him, “Yes, oh god?”

He smirked, helped her stand up, and peeled down her red panties with a kiss to her navel. He took her heels off and slid two fingers between her folds. She leaned into his hand with a desperate whine. She didn’t need to hear his soft swear to know she was embarrassingly wet, she could feel it on her thighs.

He pulled her up on the bed with him when he sat, her knees wrapping around his hips and his cock heavy against her belly. “Shit, my wallet, it’s in my pants.” He went to shift her onto the bed next to him and fetch it, but she grabbed his arm.

“I’m on the pill…” She trailed off, letting the offer register in his mind. His Adams’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, nodding slightly.

She moved her leg to straddle his lap and they both groaned when his cock brushed her slit. She pushed on his shoulders gently and he leaned back against her silky mauve bedding, his tanned hands finding her breasts, thumbs rolling her dusky pink nipples.

She moved her hips, coating him in her slick, before lining up their bodies and slowly sinking down on him until the tops of their thighs touched. His pupils were blown wide with the strain of holding himself still, and riveted to the spot where he ended and she began. Hers were pinched shut, her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth, the sheer size of him making her breathless.

She rolled her hips experimentally, a decadent moan tearing from her lips. His hand left her breast and he ran his thumb across her graceful jaw. Her lashes fluttered open and she withdrew, and sinking down again harder and it was his turn to groan at the exquisite feel of her around him.

She rocked against him, her motions quickly increasing in speed as she sought to appease the hunger he’d awakened that afternoon. He brought his hands down to steady her hips, the firm globes of her breasts swaying with her movement. Long, lustrous curls danced against his chest as she leaned closer to him, seeking friction against her clit.

Toned from years of swimming, her arms flexed with exertion where they braced her on either side of his shoulders. He lifted his hips to meet her thrusts as they shortened and became erratic. “Let go baby,” he encouraged, his gravely voice strained as she tightened around him.

His hand found her clit and she came apart, her fingers balling up the blanket and her legs trembling against his. “Oh, ah, _oh god_!” He didn’t have time to gloat as he steeled himself against the rhythmic pull of her inner muscles.

She sank down on his chest, her sweaty cheek rising and falling with his own labored breathing. He rolled them over with a grunt, and she gasped at the light impact of him still inside her. He wasted no time, his thrusts sure and deep, concentration etched across his face. She wound her hand into his long hair, pulling it out of his eyes, the alabaster roots beginning to show through under Perseus’s light brown.

She pulled her legs up to his sides and wrapped them around his hips, leaning up to press her lips to his. She had thought this round was only for him, but the drag of his chest against her breasts and the messy way his mouth tugged on hers set her on fire again. The exquisite stretch of her muscles around him and the deep angle of his thrusts stoked the building tension in her core.

He moved his hand to play at her clit, leaning his face into the crook of her shoulder as she began writhing underneath him. He left wet kisses on her neck, his rhythm becoming unsteady as he mumbled intelligible phrases against her ear. She could make out, “beautiful…so good” and “so. fucking. tight.” as he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.

She ran her free hand up and down his churning back muscles, her nails dragging light pink trails on his damp skin. He wasn’t making any sense, he must have been close. “Geralt,” she purred, “come for me.” She fluttered her pelvic floor muscles and he made a strangled noise, snapping his hips hard into hers, his coarse bellow ringing in her ears as he emptied himself.

He came so fiercely she thought he might be in pain, but she was in no shape to comfort him. The combination of his fingers on her clit and the sensation of him deeper than anyone she’d ever been with pushed her over the edge. The moment he went rigid above her the tension in her body broke loose, her back arched her against his chest and she rolled her hips flush with his. She whimpered and moaned with each pulse of bliss that worked it’s way up her body.

He slowed his fingers on her clit and whispered sweet words in her ear as she came down, the last shudders of her climax slowly fading from her petite frame. He rolled to the side, landing on the bed next to her with a heavy thump.

Her eyelids were drooping already when he forced himself to get up off the bed. He turned off the lights and pulled down the blankets and sheets, sliding her underneath them. He laid next to her on his back and she immediately curled around him, his arm warm and heavy on her back.

“Geralt?” She whispered.

He was almost asleep, “Hmm?” He didn’t open his eyes.

“I’m sorry I said you had a spicy little shrimp.”

He smiled in the dark, turning to kiss the top of her head. “You can make it up to me tomorrow.”

———

-Yennefer-  
-Just after dawn the next day-

She was back on the beach. He was warm against her thighs, the scruff of his day old stubble brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, making her heart race. The sand was silky on her back when he spread her with his fingers and licked her clean with his skilled tongue.

She arched her back and angled her hips to force his mouth deeper, his nose nudging her clit and sending a jolt through her body.

The sand was silky? Whatever, if she could just get his mouth, … _there_ …oh god, _yes!_

Her eyelids flew open and she barely comprehended that the unashamed moans echoing from the walls were coming from her own lips. Both of her hands were wound in Geralt’s hair, holding him tight to her clit, a wry smile around his eyes as he watched her catch up.

The sun was barely in the sky outside her windows as he pushed her closer to the edge, his tongue unwavering. He eased a finger inside her, followed by another, pistoning them along her soaked walls. Her toes curled into his ribs and she bucked against him, the muscles in his arms flexing as he tried to hold her down.

A pillow flew past his head haphazardly as she cried out his name and scrambled for purchase against his unrelenting movements. She sagged back down against the sheets and he eased his hand back, her voice soft and breathy when she beckoned him next to her. He crawled up to mate his lips with hers, the satisfied hum in her throat bringing the smile back to his eyes.

He pulled away to murmur, “Good morning,” in his dusky, low voice before taking her earlobe between his teeth.

“Geralt? Something terrible has happened here.”

He released her ear and swallowed hard, the hand that was rubbing circles into her back stilled. “What is it?”

“Statements were made, regarding the size of your manhood, that I have yet to make reparations for.”

He let out the breath he had been holding when he realized she was giving him grief, about her giving him grief. “Yen.” He warned, returning his attention to the soft skin behind her ear.

She had never cared for the shortened version of her name before, but for some reason when he uttered it, it was perfect. “Little spicy shrimp,” she whispered before turning in his arms and kissing her way down his body to finish what she’d begun the night before.

———

:: _Poseidon dispatched the man who’d picked up the pitchfork with a wide arc of his razor sharp trident. The solider was loyal to Poseidon, but the moment the weapon was intent on the soft skin of Eirene’s back, he was a dead man._

_Poseidon stared at his daughter, the battle still raging around them. He had finally found her after months of searching, only to watch her sob brokenly over the half mortal fool Athena had dragged into his court._

_“Eirene, come.” He commanded. She ignored him, intent only on the fallen man underneath her. “Eirene, now.” When she disobeyed him the second time, he stepped over the man’s legs and hauled her up by her arms. It was then that he noticed the extent of her foolishness, the undeniable proof of her swollen belly._

_“Daughter, what have you done!” His words began as a whisper and ended in a roar._

_“Please papa! Please!” She sobbed, struggling against his hold. She hadn’t called him “papa” in decades. He let her go and she fell to her knees beside the man’s body. Suddenly she was eerily calm and composed. She took the man’s cold hand in hers and held it tight to her chest.  
She turned back to her father, “Take me as well. End it.” She bowed her head and waited for the blow._

_Poseidon was completely taken aback. His youngest daughter had just asked him to end her life over the loss of some upstart mortal. What had gone so horribly wrong, how had it come to this? As the brother of Zeus and Hades, he had certain abilities, gifts one might call them. But they were not without sacrifice. He had been unable to save Eirene’s mother, perhaps it was time to save her daughter while he still could._

_She was tensed for the impact of his trident, and she jumped when he placed his big hand on her shoulder. His voice was thick, even more gruff than his usual tone. “He means that much?”_

_She nodded, “He is mine.” Fresh tears broke free and ran down her filthy cheeks._

_“Remember, there is always a cost. At the least, you’ll never be able to return home.”_

_“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, even though she knew it would break her father’s heart._ ::

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “Once again I’m joined by Atlantis’s favorite dynamic duo, Yennefer Giancardi and Geralt Thornwald. Thank you so much for always taking time for myself and your adoring fans!”

Geralt: “Absolutely. Without them there’s no Atlantis, and we’re unemployed.”

Yennefer: “We’re so grateful, our Atlantis fans are simply wonderful.”

I: “You’re both so sweet. So I’ve just seen this week’s episode, and I’m completely heartbroken. Yennefer, how did you handle filming those scenes, it must have been so emotionally draining for you.”

Y: “Um, yeah, it was definitely harder than a normal scene. I have the privilege of living Eirene’s highs and lows, and this certainly was a low for her. She’s just devastated…I mean, Perseus is her confidant, her support, her best friend at this point, and to lose him. In that moment she just doesn’t know how she can go on, raise his baby completely on her own. It was certainly tough to get in her mindset.” She gave a small smile.

G: “I know it was hard for her, honestly, it was hard for me to watch.” He offered.

I: She nodded. “Geralt, in addition to the brutal death of your character, which we can only assume is not the last we will see of our dashing hero, there are some pretty bitchin’ fight scenes in this episode as well. How much extra work did you have to put into those?”

G: He laughed. “They did come out _bitchin’_ didn’t they? Ah, a lot actually. As you know our stunt coordinator happens to be my older brother, Eskel Thornwald, and he really wrote some great sequences and put in a ton of effort helping me try to perfect his vision. A lot of extra gym time on the shoulders, upper back, and arm muscle groups to be able to swing that heavy sword with the speed Perseus would have had.”

I: “One last question, just for me. Yennefer, what’s it like to wear the fake baby belly? Does it get in the way?”

Y: “It’s very different. I’ve never had a child, so I’m not used to all the extra up there, and if I don’t pay attention I’m smacking my hand into it or walking into things. Or tipping over! The belly I’m in now is quite heavy, and I’ll go to get up and end up right back in my seat. Shout out to the angels who are our mothers, they are ever patient and sacrificing.”

I: “Awe, you’re completely right. Well, when it happens for real I’m sure you’ll develop that natural grace and glow.” She smiled. “I’m so excited for the season finale to air next week, as are all your fans. And Geralt, I’m sure you’re hoping Perseus’s father-in-law there will take pity on you and pull something out of his hat?”

G: “I hope so, I don’t fancy coming back as a ghost next season, though the white sheet with eyeholes will save me time in hair and makeup.” He smirked.

The interviewer thanked them again, and waited for the pair to move to the adjoining room where they planned to sign some autographs. They seemed to forget she existed as Yennefer climbed down from her chair and Geralt’s hand went to the small of her back as though it was the most natural thing in the world. They walked to the door and she leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before they separated and entered the bustling room full of fans.

She stood frozen in her spot, mouth open. Good for them.  
———

-Cahir-

He had fucked up. He’d had a good thing going with Yennefer, and he failed to put in the time and effort to keep her. Thornwald had distracted her, all ripped and tan. That idiot fuckboy likely put ideas in her head about how he was a shitty boyfriend.

He entered the condo complex and took the elevator to the third floor, intent on making her see reason. It made sense for her to accept his offer, he could put her in line for the best roles, he would make her rich beyond her wildest dreams.

Even his mother liked her, and she was impossible to please. He gripped the small velvet covered box in his pocket. The striking eight carat diamond engagement ring inside should be all he needed to seal the deal. The saleswoman had nearly climbed over the counter after him when he bought it.

He adjusted the massive bouquet of roses in his hand and knocked on her door softly. She wasn’t a morning person, he might have to text her. He heard a shout that sounded like it came from inside. She must have been watching tv. He raised his hand to knock louder and he was sure he heard her groan in pain.

He dropped the roses and tried the door handle while he fumbled for his phone to call 911. It opened easily under his fist. What the hell? He pushed the door wide and was greeted with the sight of clothes strewn across her living room. She moaned again, but this time it was accompanied by a man’s heavy grunt.

 _This bitch._ It had only been two weeks since they broke up, and she brought someone home from that benefit. He had to know who it was. He walked silently across the living room so he could see down the hall and into her bedroom.

He saw the back half of a man doing his best to make her a permanent part of the mattress, and Yennefer’s knees spread wide around him. He winced, where was ‘miss prim and proper’ as she’d been with him. He couldn’t tell if he knew the man or not by his panting and grunts. God, she’d really gone slumming.

“Ugh!” She called, “I’m -, oh fuck.” *pant* “Geralt, I’m coming!”

 _No._ Anyone but that smug son of a bitch. He turned on his heel and stalked out of her condo, Yennefer’s squeals of pleasure ringing in his ears. He closed the door quietly and gathered up the mangled roses. He didn’t want her to know he knew. He would be done with Yennefer when he said he was done, and not a minute sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Congrats for making it to the end of this chap, it was long as hell. I hope all the torture was worth it :)  
> Pregnant people riding horses I know, but it’s “tv”. :) That damned pitchfork.  
> Twilight, I could not resist with all that “Edward was written for Cavill” stuff XD  
> Margarita Laux-Antille was beautiful mage and Rectoress of Aretuza  
> Perfect (Ed Sheeran), _The Piano Guys_ version, sappy and romantic as all get out  
> Life Imitates Art, is Oscar Wilde, obv not me


	7. Sound of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis wraps it's first season, but not before a few unfortunate events that are more than suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sound of War, Tommee Profitt (feat. Fleurie)

:: _Athena had been painfully correct. His daughter had chosen another over him. He knew Eirene well enough to know that she wasn’t in the habit of saying things she didn’t wholly mean, that her request was not one of impulse but of a lifetime of suffering without the bloody pup at his feet. That heinous bitch Fate had ripped not only his youngest child from his grasp but his grandchild and he would not soon forget it._

_“Stay back.” He ordered gruffly._

_She obeyed, tucking his hand against the leather chest plate carefully and unsteadily pushing herself back across the sand. Poseidon’s guard kept their perimeter strong and held the combatants from their leader._

_He bent and cuffed Perseus on the shoulder, taking a closer look at the man who had tempted his daughter away from him. He could only hope the babe in her womb had more sense than his parents when he was of age. He straightened and peered down at her. “Goodbye Eirene.”_

_He walked off into the fighting without so much as a look back._ ::

———

-Geralt-

She slept like a wild woman. Unless Yennefer was completely exhausted, she flipped and twisted in his arms through the sheets and once almost rolled right off the bed. It was a good thing he ran hot and essentially didn’t need any of his blankets, because they were certainly occupied, woven around her legs.

That particular morning he woke up to a rather tantalizing sight. The sheets rested just below her navel, and she lay sprawled on her back, arms tossed above her head and buried in the pillows. Her dark, thick curls were a stark contrast to his white pillowcases, her blush tinted lips parted just so. He wanted to seal his mouth over one of her perfect breasts and slip his hand below the sheet, but waking her would ruin the beautifully domestic scene she created.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand, Cerys was at his door with Kosmos. He and Yennefer had snuck away the prior night and she had watched the dog for him. Yennefer had been dying to see Château d’If, the famous prison castle from _The Count of Monte Cristo_.

They wore sunglasses and caps so they wouldn’t be recognized, and rode the ferry to the island castle to watch the sunset on Marseille. She told him about the book as they walked through the ruins playing tourists, his arms around her and his head on her shoulder as they watched the sun go down from high on one of the ancient parapets.

It had only been a week since the gala, but hiding their relationship was harder than either of them had anticipated. It was tiring to hold back when he wanted to tuck a strand of hair from her face, or ask her opinion about something. He didn’t know _what_ they were, but he knew he cared about her, and he wasn’t planning on going anywhere any time soon.

Except to the door to get his fur ball. He slid off the mattress gingerly as not to wake her, pulled on a pair of boxers and tied his robe around his waist. He strode into the living room and stopped to grab a wad of money from his wallet. He opened the door and immediately bent to calm the puppy’s youthful excitement. He succeeded in quieting him but not before he slipped through Geralt’s hands while he tried to change his leash. He made a beeline for the bedroom at warp speed.

Geralt handed her the money. “Thank you so much for taking him on short notice, I really appreciate it.”

“No probl -“ She paused when she heard Yennefer’s voice from the bedroom.

_Oh! Good morning my love, you give the best morning kisses!_

Geralt had the grace to give her a sheepish look. “We’re not telling anyone yet, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping it on the down low?”

“Of course. I won’t tell a soul.” She beamed, excited to be in on a secret, especially one involving her favorite actress. “Tell her I said hi.”

———

:: _Her father left. He betrayed her, making a promise and throwing it back in her face. With his abrupt departure left the safety of his guard, and the fighting closed in on her vulnerable position. She tried dragging his body toward a large driftwood log, hoping to find shelter from the cries and swinging blades around them against the backside. Perseus would have been angry at her, but she would not stand idly by and let his body be pillaged and mutilated by her father’s bloodthirsty men should they win the battle._

_She looped her arm under his and heaved, only moving him a few inches. His body’s fully armored dead weight and the friction of the sand were no match for her. She gave in, she would have to go or his sacrifice to save her would be in vain. She bent to press one last kiss to his cold lips, but she could swear she felt warm breath on her cheek._

_Her eyes flew open and she fumbled with the straps on his armor, pulling open the thick leather under his arm and laying her ear to his heart. Slow, but sure and steady it pumped. He was alive. She peeled up his shirt, and gone was the dagger wound and the punctures from the pitchfork. He groaned and she waited for his eyes to open._

_She had never seen a more beautiful shade of golden hazel in her life. Pain was etched across his features, but it was soon replaced with confusion. “Where am I?”_

_“You left without me this morning and went and got yourself killed. Come on, we need get to Tristan and regroup.”_

_“Who are you?”_

_It was her heart that stopped then._ ::

———

-Jaskier-

Diving pool scenes were some of the most complicated, but also rewarding things to shoot. Theirs was almost twenty-five feet deep and completely made of transparent tempered glass. There was a filming platform around the base of the pool, and they had an underwater camera manned with a robotic arm right in the pool itself. When you had a mermaid show, you went all out when it came to submerged shots.

Yennefer was in the pool, the poor thing strapped up with the tail _and_ the baby belly adhered to her torso. It was a scene for the beginning of the next season. Eirene was terribly lonely, ripped from her old family and the new one she had tried to create, so she swam to feel alive again. The bottom of the tank was full of coral and kelp, a faux rocky landscape underneath. Massive camera and lighting equipment hung on cranes over the surface of the water, imitating the bright sun through the water.

“Alright Yenna, we’re ready, you can go down any time you want. Just move slowly when you get down there, take the time to observe what’s around you. It’s Eirene’s old life and she misses it dearly.”

She nodded her understanding and he ducked back behind a cluster of monitors. Shouts and metallic clangs poured from the adjacent room as Jaskier’s second filming unit worked to capture an intricate battle scene. It would make no difference to the underwater sequences as they would be dubbed with music from the score and artificial water sounds.

She dove underwater and swam quickly to the bottom, beginning Eirene’s melancholy path through the plant life. Yennefer was about half way through the sequence when a horrible metallic screech filled the room and a massive steal beam holding a piece of lighting equipment splashed into the water.

It took Jaskier a second to comprehend what had happened. That rigging was industrial grade, he couldn’t fathom how one of the joints had just up and failed. A few of the cast and crew from the second unit had wandered in to see what the terrible noise was. Suddenly his assistant grabbed his arm and pointed to one of the displays.

“Jesus Christ! She’s pinned!” Jaskier ripped off his headset and starting shucking off his shoes. He heard a splash, and a few moments later another. Onlookers were gathering at the edge of the pool, hushed whispered and worried pleas among them.

The water was so deep it was impossible to see the bottom clearly, so he gripped the edges of the monitor. The beam had landed across the back of her knees, and he could tell she was struggling to get out from underneath it. Her movements were slow, whatever air she had left was spent.

He whipped his head around, “Chireadan!” The man in question held his phone up, he had an ambulance on the way. He was too bulky of a man to have any kind of speed in the water, but he’d be fresh and trained in CPR when the swimmers returned.

Jaskier looked back down at the screen, two long bodies had reached her, Geralt and Ragnar. She wasn’t struggling anymore. It took both of the men to lift the beam off of her legs before Geralt looped his arm underneath hers and swam hard.

He broke through the surface taking a great gulp of air and handed her off to Dara, a fresh set of lungs, who swam her quickly to the edge. Chireadan hauled her up over the side and laid her on the tile flooring. It was clear she’d been unconscious for a while, her skin was pale and her lips were blue. He immediately started chest compressions.

-Geralt-

Geralt pulled in heady chestfuls of air, jerkily making his way to the edge of the pool. Ragnar popped up behind him, and someone offered a hand to pull him up out of the water. He pushed his way through the concerned group, landing heavily on his knees on the opposite side of Chireadan. He was shaking, but not because he was soaked to the bone in the chilled water.

She was gone. She had laughed and cuddled with him in his bed not two hours before, and now she was gone. Her lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, her small frame rocking with Chireadan’s forceful pumps against her chest.

“You can help me Geralt.” HIs gaze snapped to his friend. “Tilt her chin up, and when I say, plug her nose and puff a big breath alright? Now.” Geralt did exactly as he was told.

Jaskier ran for the door to direct the emergency crew to the right building. Salma rushed forward with a small knife and began slicing the tail off of her legs so the paramedics would be able to work. Someone was crying.

Geralt sealed his mouth over cold lips, blew another burst of air, and suddenly she lurched upward against their hands. He pulled back so Chireadan could roll her towards him and help her spew up mouthful after mouthful of pool water. Her body convulsed and she began vomiting up her breakfast, a mess of raspberries and oatmeal all over his thigh.

“It’s normal.” Chireadan supplied, carefully peeling off the prosthetic belly. She trembled and gagged, a fearful and confused look on her face. Geralt pushed her hair off her cheek and rubbed her shoulder as her retching slowed. He could breathe again. Chireadan rotated her leg to look at the angry bruises already beginning to form on the back of her knees where the beam had pinned her.

Salma burst into tears when she saw her legs up close, the emotion of the day finally catching up to her. Some of the onlookers had dispersed to give her privacy, but the ones that remained whispered and spoke under their breath. They were probably concerned that if her legs were injured, nerves, veins, bones, or musculature and she couldn’t walk or swim - they’d be out of a job. Geralt didn’t give a fuck about their careers.

Jaskier led the paramedics in from the far door, and Salma came forward with a robe for her. “Geralt -“ Yennefer rasped, her shaky hand clutching his arm.

He leaned close, “It’s alright, the paramedics are here, you’re going to be okay.” He wasn’t sure if his reassurance was more for him or her, but it didn’t matter. He backed away when the first responders boxed him out and gathered around her, but her hand reached for his on the wet tile between their feet. He squeezed it and ran his thumb in comforting circles while they put a collar around her neck and slipped a backboard underneath her.

He let go as they folded her arms in and loaded her on a gurney, Chireadan barking out numbers and time measurements of her pulse and how long she’d been without air. Only one person could go with them and there was no question it should be Chireadan. He was the only one who would be any kind of useful to them.

They wheeled her through the large bay doors and loaded up the ambulance, the siren almost deafeningly loud to his ears as it pulled away. Jaskier held a sobbing Salma, and told everyone they were done shooting for the day, at the least. He reached an arm around her and grabbed Geralt’s arm.

“Geralt, thank you.” He didn’t think he’d ever seen Jaskier so serious.

“Ragnar and Chireadan,” he began, but he cut Geralt off. “Yes, but I mean it. Thank you. And I can’t fucking believe you made that swim in the armor.” He shook his head in amazement as Salma’s tears slowed. Jaskier gave her another hug and sent her after Dara.

Geralt looked down. Fuck. He was still wearing Perseus’s full armored costume, the leather soaking wet and weighing a ton. Ragnar’s lay at the edge of the pool, he’d had the sense to remove it first. He shrugged, “Adrenaline. I’m going to call her mother on my way to the hospital, you can come with me but I’ll tell you right now I’m not going the speed limit.” He pulled off the heavy chest piece and they both began walking quickly for the door.

———

Jaskier had chosen to pick up Sabrina, knowing she would want to be there for Yennefer. The phone call to her mother was not something Geralt ever wanted to repeat. Calanthe had broken down despite his reassurances that she was breathing and talking, so much so that Yennefer’s father had taken the phone.

Geralt changed into the clothes from his gym bag in a hurry before checking in at the hospital reception desk and hustling up to the ICU department. He was the first to arrive, and he lied, telling the nurse he was her brother to bypass the family only rule. They needed to analyze the results of her CT test in order to make sure there wasn’t any fluid still in her lungs, but her prognosis was good.

He opened the door to her room slowly, still feeling like he was in the twilight zone. She was sleeping, the color beginning to return to her skin, a blush on her cheeks. He pulled the chair by her bed close, took her hand in his and put his head in the other. He kept reliving the moment he realized she was in the water, and he was certain that Jaskier’s shout would live in his nightmares.

Yennefer stirred, jarring him from his churning thoughts. She opened her stunning amethyst eyes and took in the white ceiling above her. Her lids were sleepy, but her gaze clear and sharp. “I thew up on you.”

He barked out a shuddering laugh, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. “Only a little bit.”

She asked him what had happened and he he told her, leaving out a few parts that would only serve to upset her. The panic, the crying, and the way his heart had been in his throat since he first saw her little frame pinned under the heavy metal.

“Does my breath smell horrible?” She asked.

“No, of course not. Why?” He was confused.

“It sounds like I came back from the underworld and I don’t even get a kiss.” She pouted.

He smirked, leaning over to brush his lips across hers delicately. She lifted her head from the pillow, her IVs the only thing stopping her from winding her hand into his hair as her lips caressed his into a real kiss. He banded his arm around her and relished in her soft skin, warm again and flushed under his.

“I don’t know anyone who kisses their brother like that.” Yennefer’s nurse had poked her head in the room and they jolted apart. She smiled, knowing full well Geralt had lied, “To each their own though I guess. I won’t be long, I just want to check your legs. You want me to kick him out?”

Yennefer shook her head and the nurse unhooked her IV inserts, pulling the oxygen tube from her nose. She sat her up in the bed and helped her turn to the edge, a hiss on Yennefer’s lips when her bare feet made contact with the cold tile.

She put her weight on her legs and faltered, her knees unsteady like the legs of a newborn fawn. Geralt stepped forward and grabbed her before she could fall. She clung to his neck. “Again, let me try it again. I think it’s just because I’m so stiff.”

Reluctantly he set her back on her feet and she tried again, the second time she held her weight and took a few steps. “The doctor will have to confirm, but I think you’re going to be just fine Yennefer, you’re a lucky girl.”

———

-Calanthe-

As a mother, she hoped she would never have to receive a call like the one they had that morning. She was lucky it was her day off and Eist was home from the bakery early. They got right in the car and rushed to the hospital as fast as they could. When they reached the waiting room Jaskier introduced himself to Yennefer’s father and gave them another run down of the events and his sincerest apologies. All that the hospital staff would tell him was she was doing well, but no details since he, Sabrina, Salma and Chireadan weren’t family.

“Well, they’ll sure as hell tell me.” Calanthe scoffed. She found a doctor who updated them officially that she should make a full recovery. She would need few day’s rest and limited exertion for four or five days so her lungs and knees could heal. Salma said a prayer and Sabrina gave Jaskier a tight hug.

They asked to see her, and before Eist could open the door to Yennefer’s room, Calanthe stopped him. “Look, look at them.” She pointed through the little window in the door.

Geralt was leaning half in her bed, his broad arm wrapped across her belly and up her side. His head lay on the pillow next to hers, his nose nuzzling her neck and a smile on his face as they talked. Their daughter’s free arm was wrapped around his back, a smile on her lips before she laughed at whatever he was mumbling into her ear.

“Who the bloody hell is that?!” Eist grumbled under his breath. “Didn’t she just break up with that wanker?” He looked downright pissed.

“Pay attention husband, that’s Geralt. The one in the show with her.” He wasn’t understanding. “The boy who called us today, he helped her realize that Cahir was no good.” He began analyzing the pair a little closer.

“Now don’t say anything to chase him off, I like him.” She insisted.

“If anyone is gonna chase a boy away from one of our daughters it isn’t going to be me.”

She gave him the eye, and it was mutually known he’d be apologizing for that later. He pushed open the door and Geralt extricated himself from her arms. Calanthe rushed over to hug Yennefer and Geralt stood to introduce himself as her coworker and shake Eist’s hand.

Geralt went to leave and Yennefer asked him to stay, to the surprise of both her parents. “He gets to stay, he pulled me out of the water.”

Calanthe looked at Geralt anew. “Did he now? He didn’t take credit for anything of the sort on the phone.” He put up his hands in surrender, giving the praise to Ragnar and Chireadan.

———

-Geralt-

Once all three were certain she was alright, they left to let her rest. Yennefer pulled Geralt close and gave him a kiss right in front of her parents, so he guessed they were done hiding their relationship from a few people at least.

Calanthe spoke up when the group gathered around in the waiting room. “We’re going to get something to eat while she rests, and we just wanted to thank you all for your roles in helping our girl today. I hope you know she’d do the same for any of you.” Eist shook Chireadan’s hand and thanked him for watching out for his daughter.

“Also, and I know this seems childish, but we’ve planned a surprise birthday party at our home for her next week. She should be up and about in advance of that so I don’t see a need to cancel it. You’re all welcome and I hope you attend before the long weekend. If only for the home cooked meal catered by my husband’s bakery.”

They were all in such good spirits with the news that Yennefer would be alright that she couldn’t help but ask. “Who won?”

Geralt was confused, “Who won what?”

Jaskier spoke up. “We’re not sure…there’s no proof.”

She grinned. “Eist, when was the last time Yenna called you to talk?”

He paused what he was saying to Chireadan. “Now that you mention it, it’s been a while, almost two weeks.”

Calanthe turned back to Jaskier. “Who had two weeks ago?”

Jaskier swallowed hard and whispered, “A ‘C.G.’, but we can’t figure out who that is…”

She winked at him. “I’ll take my winnings in cash at the party, now you have to attend.”

 _Son of a bitch._ Her own mother had put money on them getting together, and she must have wagered it months ago when she was on set. Geralt gave Jaskier a scathing look, intent on giving him hell.

“Geralt, walk with me for just a moment please?” He didn’t dare disobey her, the woman was a force of nature.

“Will she be alright here to recover or should we take her home? And when I say that, I mean, will you take care of her?” She looked into his eyes like she could see right into his soul.

“Yes, of course.” That was the easiest thing she could have asked of him.

“I’ll text you our address and the details, can you trick her into coming to her own birthday? I’ll of course, take the blame for her pouting when you arrive.”

He nodded, and he was surprised when she pulled him down to her height to wrap him in a tight hug. “Thank you for what you did today.”

Before he could open his mouth to respond, her husband came up behind him and pulled him close, his hand thumping on Geralt’s back solidly. Eist was choked up, “Thank you for saving my baby.”

———

Geralt hunched in Jaskier’s office, watching him roll back through hours worth of security footage from inside the dive pool building. They could see the rigging joint that gave way in the viewfinder, and almost make out a bolt that looked like it had been unscrewed. He searched farther back in time to see if they could tell if it gradually loosened, or what the hell had happened.

He wanted to get it sorted out, because they were filming season two back to back with one. Due to the project’s budget, and because they were changing locations for season three, they needed to get everything done before going on an official hiatus from filming.

Jaskier’s screen went black. “What the hell?” He swore. He rewound the feed and watched again. The bolt was loose, the screen went black, and twenty minutes before that the image was restored. The bolt was perfectly secure. Someone had sabotaged their equipment with the intent of hurting a cast member. Most likely the one who used that pool more than anyone else, and was laying in a hospital bed. The muscle in Geralt’s jaw flexed and he grit his teeth. As soon as he could prove it, that bastard was going to pay.

———

-Geralt-  
-Three Days after the ‘Accident’-

He juggled three paper bags full of groceries in both arms while he slid her key in the lock. He shoved the bulky set back in his front pocket, a silver horse keychain dangling from the ring and outside his jeans. The ring was going to get even heavier when he added the pepper spray that was inside one of the bags he just purchased.

He closed the door behind him, music playing from her kitchen. He set two of the bags down on the table and carried the last around the dividing wall, before he froze at the sight before him.

She was cooking, clad only in a pair of short running shorts and a black sports bra. Ariana Grande’s _Side To Side_ blaring from her phone, her back to him as she stirred something on the stove. Ariana’s voice crescendoed for the chorus and Yennefer’s voice followed suit, her pitch and tone spot on with the woman on the recording.

Christ, she really could sing. At that moment though, what had him staring transfixed were the gyrating motions of her body. She moved in time with the sultry beat, her hips circling languidly to the music as she dropped the wooden spoon handle and wound her hands through her hair and above her head. The base dropped and so did she, an effortless squat nearly to the floor. When she worked her way back up to the spoon, she turned and let out a startled yelp when she noticed him staring.

He pulled his jaw from the preverbal floor and smiled, “You feeling better sweetheart?” She nodded, crossing the kitchen to take the bag from him. She met her lips with his over the bag and he had to restrain himself from gliding his hands across her mischievous hips and asking her to run through those moves one more time. She was still two or three days from being cleared for exertion, sexual or otherwise, and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize her recovery.

Their lips parted and they both spoke at the same time.

“I was going to cook for you -“

“I cooked for you -“

She smiled and kissed him again. “Let’s put these away for tomorrow and you can help me finish. I bet there’s a stubborn jar somewhere that needs opening by a muscly man.” She gave him a snarky smile.

He shook his head, “I have a feeling there isn’t a jar in France that would win against you.”

———

-Yennefer-

She twirled the pasta around her fork, watching him devour her father’s Carbonara recipe. They sat out on her balcony, the sleeves of his hooded sweatshirt pushed up her arms against the fall breeze. She snuggled her bare legs under the soft blanket and he asked her how her day had been.

“I finished the sudoku book, washed every linen in your place and mine, and I took a nap. I also stole Kosmos and took him for a walk, I hope that’s alright.” She chewed a bite of asparagus thoughtfully.

He wiped his mouth, “Of course it is. You’re his…well, he’s yours too.”

She set her fork on her plate and leaned closer to him on the wicker sofa. “Were you gonna say his mama?” She paused. “Because, I’d like that, if you liked that.”

“Yen, you know you are. He adores you. So do I.”

How had she been so wrong about this man when she first met him? She pulled the blanket over his long legs and murmured her reciprocation against his shoulder.

“How was filming? I miss everyone. Did Jaskier say anything embarrassing I need to know about so I can tease him?” She felt out of sorts being off set for so long.

“He misses you, the double he’s using to fill in some of the swimming scenes doesn’t move her tail just right. I reminded him your tail was grounded until the end of the week for sure.” He paused, put down his fork and told her about what he and Jaskier found when they reviewed the security footage after her accident. She was shocked.

“I’m not trying to worry you, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure nothing like that ever happens again.” He wanted her to know so she could be cautious and safe. It wasn’t certain she had been the target, nor that it had been done with the intent to harm someone, but it was highly suspicious.

“Will you ride with me next week when you’re back to work?”

She wasn’t about to give up her freedom just because they had a hunch, but she could understand where he was coming from. He was scared, he didn’t want to lose her, and that day at the diving pool had been awfully close.

“On one condition.”

He nodded, ready to agree to whatever she wanted.

“We stop at the pastry shop on the way so we can bring enough lemon danishes for everyone.”

———

:: _The hidden cost of her father’s gift was the loss of Perseus’s memory, specifically, of her. He stood up in the sand, thanked her for her help and walked toward his horse. She followed behind trying to spark his memory._

_“Please, just wait! My name is Eirene, we met when Marcellus fell off your ship…you gave me this dagger!”_

_Perseus paused at the edge of the tree line and admitted that the dagger was remarkably similar to his, but hinted that it was likely a coincidence. “Look, I’m sorry you’re in trouble Miss…Eirene, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’ve been to the tavern a time or two but I don’t recognize your face at all. There’s no way I can be the one responsible for your…troubles.” He gestured toward her belly._

_The accusation cut through her like a knife. He remembered where his horse was tethered, but not anything to do with her. She had just turned her back on her family with finality, in exchange for the life of a man she loved dearly, who now thought her a common tavern whore trying to pin her bastard child on him. Her mind whirled._

_“I’m sorry but you have means back to the village I hope? The fight is dissolving and I’ve left something at my home, I can’t pinpoint what, but I feel a sense of urgency.” She stared at him blankly. “I’ll try to send someone to help you back, but I have to go.”_

_Me! She wanted to scream, it was Eirene he’d forgotten at home. He mounted Tristan and rode up the trail and out of her sight. She leaned on a thick tree trunk for balance, suddenly dizzy. She stared at her palms, still stained with his blood. She closed her eyes and prayed that when she opened them it would all have just been a nightmare._ ::

———

-Geralt-

“Eskel, tell me about your new flat.” Yennefer asked from the passenger seat.

Geralt had decided to use Eskel’s new home as an excuse to get her to London for the party. He told her he needed to help his brother move, and just as he expected, she volunteered to help. Partially because she was going stir crazy, finally allowed to physically do anything she wanted and she was likely getting sick of him hovering and babying her. But until he could shake the sight of her lying on the tile lifeless, protective he would be.

Eskel was totally on board for good food and a chance to tease his brother about his “in-laws”. He was driving them, the back of his SUV loaded with his belongings, and Geralt sat in the back seat behind her. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, clothes to help someone move in, but Geralt knew she’d have clothes to change into at her parent’s house.

“It’s not in Kensington like my fancy-pants brother back there, but it’s a nice place. Two bedroom, nice view.” He changed lanes.

“How big are the closets?” She asked, her curls blowing in the brisk air from the open window.

“They’re actually pretty big.”

“Good, your girlfriend will want to move in right away.” She winked at him. “Eskel, I think you live near my parents!” Geralt hoped she wouldn’t hate him after she realized they had lied to her.

They got closer. “Eskel…there aren’t any buildings with flats on this street. Where are we going?” Her expression got serious. They pulled into her parents driveway, the air smelled like barbecue.

“Geralt.” Her tone was one he’d scarcely heard before.

“Your mother said, that - ,” he began.

“Surprise!!!” Calanthe came around a hedge row holding balloons, her father with a sympathetic look on his face after her. Pavetta was last, flipping her sister a peace sign and a smile.

———

-Yennefer-

She was turning twenty-three, and she certainly didn’t need a party, but it was nice all the same. Sabrina, Jaskier, Delilah, and Dara were all in the back yard lounging on her parent’s deck furniture. Eskel got a beer and joined the others, while Yennefer took Geralt inside so she could change into something clean and festive.

She narrated the unofficial tour as they went up the stairs, and when they got to her room she locked the door behind him. Her room was neat and tidy, done in trendy greys and shades of violet. She leveled him with a suggestive glance, hunger reflected in her eyes. He balked, “Ohh, no. You’re not healed yet.”

“Yes I am, it’s been longer than the doctor said to wait.” She cupped his jaw and pulled him to her lips, her other hand slipping inside the first few inches of his waistband. She pulled back and he chased her, his argument weakening.

She flipped off her sweatshirt, and the plain cotton bra she wore did nothing to detract from her beauty. The bruises on her chest from Chireadan’s life saving hands had faded, her lithe body once again flawless.

He cleared his throat. “Your parents are here, we can’t.” Even as the words left his mouth he hardened under her wandering hand.

“Mmmmm, they are..” she murmured under her breath. She took his hand and pulled him over to the deep window seat that overlooked the back yard. They could just make out the people below through her lacy curtains. “But they can’t see us. They’ll never know.”

She climbed up on all fours in front of him, her knees and palms pressing into the purple plaid cushion. She sighed when she felt his hands ghost over her hips, and gasped when he pressed his erection against her rear through their jeans. It had been over a week, and his voice was gravely. “You’ll tell me if you have any discomfort, or you’re out of breath?”

She didn’t answer right away and he stopped moving. “Yes, I’ll say if -, just _yes_.” She undid the fly on her jeans and pushed them and her panties to her knees while he did the same on his own pants. He ran his palm over the smooth skin of her back before leaning his cock against her folds.

He twisted the clasp on her bra and she slid it down her arms while he reached around the gentle flair of her hip to trace circles around her clit. “Mmm, so wet for me.” His finger brushed the sensitive bud and she jerked away from his touch at first, only to fold her hand over his and roll her hips against his fingers with a moan. The movement pushed her against his erection again and he lined up their bodies.

He ran his blunt teeth across her shoulder blade lightly, “I bet you bring all the boys up here.”

“Not true,” she pushed her hips backward, forcing the tip of his cock inside her slick walls, “only you.” He pitched forward and bottomed out inside her with a curse. She moaned into one of the little pillows decorating the cushion.

He pistoned his hips and thrust again, one hand on her waist and the other reaching up to play with her breast. He began a slow rhythm and she bent down on her elbows, the new angle allowing him to slide impossibly deeper. “Talk to me so I know you’re alright.” He sounded desperate, his thrusts coming faster.

“You feel so good,” she promised in a hushed voice. “It’s been too long,” another whine muffled into the pillow, “I think I’m addicted to you.”

“That right?” He was getting off on her words, panting louder against the back of her neck.

“I can’t think,” *gasp*, “in the middle of the day,” *whimper*, “all I want is you.”

He groaned long and loud, the snaps of his hips coming closer, “I’m close baby.” He reached back around to her clit.

“You’re the only one who -,” _oh_ , “who ever made me come.” He was sliding her along the cushion with the force of his movements and she pushed her hips back against him harder. “Come so hard I see stars,” she ground out the last part before he lost it, pinning her hips flush with his while he poured himself in her, his deep groan buried in the flesh of her back.

She finished only a moment later when his fingers found her clit again, her thighs trembling as she rocked against him in time with the pull of her core so tight around him. She was panting, but in a completely good way. “Are you okay?” His hand traced over her ribs.

She pulled the pillow from her teeth, “Better than okay.” He tucked himself back in his pants and helped her stand up and step out of her jeans. “I’m going to take a two minute shower, I won’t get my hair wet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? I smell like your cologne and sex.” She pulled off her socks and he nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent with a pleasured hum. “You like it, my father won’t.” He released her instantly. She hauled him back down for a passionate kiss before sneaking down the hallway to the bathroom.

———

-Calanthe-

She watched Yennefer walk through the sliding glass doors onto their deck, Geralt close behind. She had changed into a lavender sun dress and carried her sandals in her hand, having preferred to feel the grass between her toes ever since she was a baby.

Calanthe handed him a beer as he walked by and he thanked her, heading to stand with his brother near the grill. She should probably feel honored to have such a celebrity at her home, but she had a sneaking suspicion that said celebrity had likely just had his way with her daughter. The bright smile Yennefer wore talking to Dara was telling in itself.

She tapped her wedding rings against her wine glass before raising it, and once she had everyone’s attention simply stated, “Happy Birthday to my Yenna, we are so proud of the lady you’ve become and all your accomplishments. And we’re so grateful that you’re ok…” her throat tightened up at the sudden rush of emotion.

Eist spoke up and put his hand on her waist. “We’re grateful to our daughter’s wonderful friends and coworkers who saw to it she was able to be here today, our home is yours forever more. Cheers and thank you for coming.”

Yennefer walked over and gave her parents each a tight hug. “We didn’t invite any of your university friends, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Not at all, it would have been too much. Thank you for the party, but please never do it again.”

Calanthe relented. “I promise I won’t throw you another surprise birthday party. The next one will be your bridal shower anyway.”

“Oh my god, _Mom_! Maybe I’ll never get married, you’ll just have to worry about Pavetta’s social calendar from now on.”

“Fine, I’m not so old fashioned that I couldn’t handle that. Your baby shower then.” She smirked.

“Don’t even start with me. You see babies all day at work mother, you are not starved for an infant’s love.” She gave Calanthe a knowing look.

Eist laughed and went back to the grill where Jaskier was intent on showing him what he was doing wrong with the way he cooked his hot dogs. Yennefer introduced her mother to Delilah, which only served to fuel Calanthe’s grandmother fever when the little girl began drooling on her daughter’s shoulder.

The only other person she hadn’t met on set was Eskel, and she just could not resist when both brothers stood together. “My, your parents must be so thrilled to have such handsome boys.”

“ _Mother_ , they’re grown men, quit picking.” She mouthed _I’m sorry_ to them both over Delilah’s light curls. “Come on mom.” She insisted, leading her away before she could embarrass her any more.

“Oh calm down Yenna, you can’t tell me that with those genetics they’ve never heard this before!”

-Geralt-

“She’s harmless.” Geralt offered when Calanthe and Yennefer walked away.

Eskel laughed. “You’re so fucked.”

He got defensive. “Why?”

He took a pull from his beer. “You love her. You’ll be stuck with that woman as a mother-in-law.”

“She’s manipulative, but she means well. Frankly, she’s impressive.” He shrugged.

“You didn’t deny it.” Eskel paused.

Geralt watched Yennefer from across the yard as she bounced Delilah on her hip and leaned to laugh at something Pavetta said. “I can’t.”

———

They stopped at Eskel’s _real_ flat and unloaded his boxes, and headed back south to Marseille. They could have stayed at Geralt’s London home, but he wanted to get Kosmos before Cerys and her parents went away for the long weekend.

She rode in the back seat with Geralt, fighting the urge to fall asleep on his shoulder. He promised her three gifts for her birthday, but admitted they weren’t grandiose gestures. The first was a helmet for riding his on bike, it featured a metallic visor and was black like his but sized for her smaller head. She maintained he didn’t have to buy her anything, but he could tell she was excited to use it. She loved exploring and the bike let them sneak away easily.

He warned her that the smaller box didn’t contain any diamonds before she opened it. It was a tiny, dainty bracelet - worlds apart from the clunky diamond laden one from Cahir. It was made of white gold, and it featured three small white gold charms. He’d had them custom made, a horse, a mermaid tail, and a sketching pencil; all terribly delicate and intricately detailed. He thought maybe she would find it a bit too on the nose, but instead she held back tears and asked him to put it on her small wrist.

The third he would give her the next day. There was a small little art shop in the city that she wanted to explore the last time they were out riding, and she’d never gone back because of the accident. He arranged for she and Cerys to have the shop to themselves for the afternoon, and he would pay for anything either of them wanted. He’d been meaning to do something nice for Cerys, and he knew Yennefer would enjoy spending time with someone who shared her interest and talent.

She snuggled closer to him, running her fingers over the bracelet before letting her lashes flutter closed. He tightened his arm around her, leaning his cheek against her head.

———

:: _A cool breeze blew the dark curls from her shoulder. She sat on the same rock outcropping as she had so many months ago, her trim legs folded over the edge, her dainty toes dashing into the seawater. The thin leather strap held her dagger in place high over her swollen belly, moonlight glinting off the hammered steel band on her bicep._

_She watched his ship from a distance, longing in her heart at the soft glow beaming from his cabin’s stained glass windows. Tears leaked down her cheeks unchecked as her fingertips rubbed circles against her belly where a small foot pressed._

_She wanted to implode in on herself, to give up and embrace her grief, but she had a new purpose. She would push on and do what she needed to for her child. She felt like she was a failure as a daughter, unwanted by her lover, but no one would take the opportunity from her to be a wonderful mother - Fate be damned._ ::

———

-Geralt-  
-Two Days Later-

He reclined on his sofa, a late night war movie on the tv and Kosmos tucked against his leg. A soft knock on his door broke through a quiet moment in the film. The dog jumped up and ran to the door, Geralt following behind. He swung the door open to reveal a pitiful looking Yennefer, soaked to the bone from the fall thunderstorm outside.

She had been watching Delilah for Jaskier and Sabrina so they could go to dinner, but their condo was in the same complex as both of theirs. “What happened? Were you out in the storm?” It sounded ridiculous as soon as he said it, of course she had been.

She was shaking, but when he took her arms in his hands he realized it wasn’t from the cold water. “Yen, what’s wrong.”

She let out sob, her tears mixing with the rain water running from her hair. “I don’t know what to do.” Kosmos danced around her feet nervously. “Someone broke in, I don’t know how.”

He tipped her chin up and searched her eyes, “Are you hurt, did someone -“ he couldn’t voice the words. “Were you home?”

“No, it’s only material things, but, they wrote on the wall. Like they know me.” She shuddered so drastically her teeth chattered together.

She’d been robbed. The complex was in an affluent part of the city, he hadn’t seen evidence or heard about an abundance of crime in the area. “Here, let’s get you dried off and we’ll go back over there.” He guided her inside and helped her towel off, wiping her tears with reassuring words. How much more shit was she going to have to take? She was strong person, but fuck, enough was enough.

Dressed in a dry shirt that was small on him and an oversized pair of sweatpants, she followed him back to her condo, her hand tucked securely in his. He pushed the door open, the handle and the lock both looked intact.

They walked into a war zone. The patio doors were swinging open, pouring rain soaking her living room rug. Her things were thrown all over the room, most of them broken. The remnants of a crystal lamp were buried in her TV, but what drew his attention was the blood red writing on the wall; “Filthy Liar”.

He fought the urge to push her behind him as they walked through the debris field. She stepped near the balcony, just outside the continuing deluge of rain water. He walked up behind her, his hand reassuringly strong on her arm. Her MacBook and iPad were smashed, soaked in the rain. The beautiful Canon camera and lenses her parents had just gifted her for her birthday lay next to them, absolutely ruined.

She hadn’t been robbed, she’d been vandalized. Her clothes were littered though the room, shredded, and tossed over the balcony onto the shrubs and lawn below. He walked into the bedroom and froze. It was her lipstick they had used. Above her bed, in beautiful calligraphy were the words, “You Fucking Whore”.

She came down the hall behind him and gasped when she saw the wall. She leaned into his shoulder blade to hide her face and he wrapped his arm backwards around her waist. He looked into her master bath, “Worthless Tease” at eye level, this one etched into the mirror with something sharp.

They had both seen enough. “More of the same in here, let’s go back _home_.” If it wasn’t obvious, he was making it so. She would stay with him. They walked back and he drew her a warm bath and helped her into the tub, insistent she would feel better after. He left her his iPad and her phone so she could call her parents while he took care of the mess.

He called the French police, and Jaskier and Sabrina to let them know what she’d come home to. The police took photos and filled out a report, fine with her coming to the station the next morning to give her statement and sign off on it. He checked on her in the tub, she was still red eyed, but laughing at a story Pavetta was telling her.

He grabbed some large garbage bags and gathered anything from her place that might be salvageable. They’d missed her shoes in the closet, and her jewelry had been tucked away in the back of the dresser. He pulled some things from her nightstand, her phone charger and a few coats from her coat closet. Everything else had essentially been demolished.

He came back in for one last ditch effort, stepping into the rain and sifting through the piles of discarded belongings on the balcony. He pawed through pile after pile until he hit a partially dry patch of books. _Her sketches._ He shoved the art related pages, a well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice and a few journals under his shirt, intending to try and dry them out for her.

-Yennefer-

She had sobbed her apologies to her parents about her new camera, but all they cared about was that she was alright. Her mother promised to overnight mail her a hefty box of her clothes, and her father reminded her they were just things, they could be replaced. After chatting with Pavetta about her latest crush, the bathwater had turned cold. She dressed in a pair of Geralt’s boxers and a tank top, unashamedly bringing the soft fabric to her nose, his scent warm and comforting.

She waited for him on his sofa, Kosmos laying against her leg, leaning his soft fur into her brush strokes. Geralt came back through the door, the dog yipping but not willing to leave the warm nest he’d made. Geralt set the garbage bags full of her things to the side and stripped off his wet clothes. He returned in a pair of dry shorts, turning off lights as he went.

He sat behind her on the wide suede cushion and she snuggled in between his legs, Kosmos laying lengthwise against her side. “Thank you.” She whispered, grateful she didn’t have to spend a minute longer under the harsh words scrawled on her walls.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and draped his arm across her back. “Are you okay?”

Her cheek was warm against his chest. “Yeah. It’s just stuff. You don’t mind if I stay?”

“I’ll be spoiled, I won’t want you to leave.”

She smiled, her fingertips playing in his chest hair as he flipped on the tv, an old black and while film casting a soft glow as they fell asleep.

———

She woke up after a few hours and couldn’t fall back asleep. She couldn’t shake the messages on her walls, who would do that to her? Who knew where she lived and could break in without breaking a window or forcing the door. She felt violated, someone had entered her home were she felt safe. So many of her photos and treasured possessions were ruined for no reason.

Kosmos had abandoned them for his puppy bed, a fuzzy toy between his paws. Geralt stirred, adjusting the arm pinned between her and the sofa. “ ’s alright Yen, go back to sleep,” he grumbled, only half awake.

“I can’t.”

He noticed the vulnerable note in her voice and brushed her hair back from her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She lifted her head and reached to feather her lips over his. “No, I want to feel.”

He passed his rough cheek against her soft one before capturing her lip between his. She slid her leg the rest of the way over his, alining their bodies and matching his probing tongue with her own.

He slipped his hands beneath the waistband of the boxers she wore, sliding over the creamy skin of her waist. She rolled her hips over his anxiously, the thin cotton doing little to hide his growing erection. She parted their lips and peeled off the baggy tank top, sinking back down against his chest and mouthing at his collar bone. Her blunt teeth and soothing tongue trailed across his shoulder and upward, his hands sinking to her hips to hold her tight as she kissed and licked his exposed throat.

He thrust upward when she returned to his lips, her appreciative groan swallowed up by his slanting mouth. Her hair fell against his face, and when she reached up to flip it out of her way he rolled the boxers down her hips, his hand moving quickly to sink into her slick folds. She gasped when his thumb found her clit and he lifted his hips so she could push his shorts back.

She palmed his cock when it sprang free, her strokes in time with his fingers until he pushed them deeper and in wasn’t enough. She released him hoping he would take the hint, but he carried on, his fingers pulling a deep moan from her. He toyed with her until she whispered a lush _please_ , her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He moved his hand to coat himself in her slick and helped her push back over him until her eyes fluttered shut and her hips were flush with his. He arched his pelvis and she keened, bringing hers down to meet his on the next high. She kept her back bent, her breasts pressed to his chest and her mouth at his ear. She wanted to be as close to him as she could, skin on skin.

His thrusts turned more forceful and she moaned, her fervent pants spurring him faster. “I’m close, _ah_ , ohhhh so close. Come with me.” He groaned, wrapping one arm around her lower back and rolling her clit between his fingertips. Her ankles locked behind his calves and she shook, “ugh, _oh_ , Geralt!” his name a sharp cry on her lips.

He didn’t let up, working the hand between her legs faster and using the other to pull her tight to his surging hips. “ _You_ , come with _me_ ,” he ground out. Again she tightened around him, a sure sign she would go again.

She was surprised, a shocked yelp leaving her lips as she dug her fingernails into his bicep and ground herself against his hand. Kosmos barked at her alarmed tone, bounding across the room on his little legs to save her. Geralt came with a gruff shout, rocking his release deep as she convulsed anew. She propped herself up on her hands, her frame still rolling above him to draw out every moment of her pleasure.

The dog danced wildly next to the sofa, unable to reach the cushions yet without help. Geralt framed her face with his hand, her expression falling from wonder to blissful satisfaction. She leaned to meet him with a languid kiss.

She righted her shorts and his before reaching to let Kosmos up to cuddle with them. “When will you stop outdoing yourself?”

He flashed her a cocky grin and then an uneasy laugh. “Any moment now the shiny new stuff will be wearing off. It happens with us old men.”

The dog was pleased to find them both alive and well, if not a bit sweaty, and jumped back down for the peace of his own little bed.

She smiled, but her tone was serious. “I guess I’m saddled with a dull old man then, because I don’t know what I would do without you.”

———-

-Off Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Atlantis’s production company was hosting a special red carpet viewing of the show’s season finale episode, and she was doing that week’s interview live on location. She hadn’t said a word to anyone about the intimate moment she witnessed after their interview last week, and she was hoping not to spoil it for them.

Quite a few other celebrities were present as well, it seemed the show was a genuine hit. She was stationed toward the end of the line, closest to the venue doors. Ragnar was first through her station, his tall frame and witty answers making the female fans behind her boisterous. Vesemir, Dara, and Istredd were next, followed closely by Jaskier and Sabrina.

She could tell Geralt and Yennefer were close from the screams and cat calls, the fans packed in close behind her, pushing tight to the security guards and fencing. “Yennefer! Yennefer here!” They shouted at the pair, flashes coming from all directions, their brilliant smiles illuminated over and over. Geralt leaned to sign an autograph and a woman squealed. Yennefer caught sight of her familiar face and waved, subtly pulled Geralt along behind her.

As they made their way, a bright flash hit her just right and her vision went spotty. The toe of her heel caught on an errant electrical wire and she started to pitch forward, until Geralt caught her by the arm and steadied her with his hand on her hip. She laughed and the flash bulbs exploded. The image of her laughing in his arms was trending on social media before they left the venue that night.

They finally reached her and Geralt leaned on the fencing behind her, blocking Yennefer from some of the din.

Interviewer: “Yennefer, are you alright?”

Yennefer: “Oh god yes, my fault for attempting the stilettos.” She brushed it off.

I: “I’m glad! Thank you both for stopping, I’m so happy for your success here and I won’t keep you long.”

Someone shouted, “Kiss her already!” Yennefer’s face flamed while Geralt smirked.

I: “So I’ve seen the episode everyone is about to see, and I won’t spoil anything but congratulations, I’m dying for next season already. I have to ask, only because if I don’t they’ll yell it, but you’re adorable together - are you two a couple?”

Yennefer looked up at him and neither answered right away.

Y: “We’re very good friends, we spend a lot of time together on set. I’m officially single right now, so if you know anyone…” She smiled.

A gruff voice from the crowd barked out, “Call me baby! Woof!”

Geralt: “Single and living the wild life before I’m in my thirties, you know how that goes.” He winked.

They got pulled into taking more photos from there before heading in to the viewing. Later that night they were ‘living wild’ as ‘just friends’, tucked together in his bed their dog at their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Diving pool - made it all up. Medical stuff, made it all up. Liability and legal shit they would never let Geralt help her walk in the hospital. If the legal ppl wanna write the story they can XD  
> Ariana - I had to, I _love_ the YouTube video of that Toronto construction worker dancing to it, I die every time I watch it. XD  
> Also we’re pretending for my sanity that the drive time between London and Marseille is like three hours as opposed to twelve. #WebOfLies


	8. Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season Two of Atlantis brings with it dark days for Eirene and Yennefer alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find You, Ruelle

:: _Had she heard him correctly? He was asking her to marry him. She leaned heavily against the wooden post behind her in the stables, her back incredibly sore in the recent weeks. In some ironic twist of fate, she and Icarus were standing only a few paces away from the spot where he had last tried to kiss her almost a year ago._

_“Did you hear what I said Eirene?” His tone was kind, he was so patient with her._

_She broke from her reverie. “Yes, you want to marry me so my child isn't a bastard.”_

_He grinned, she was easily riled and he loved that about her. “Those aren’t the words I spoke. I said that if you were willing, I would be honored to marry you. I care about you, and the baby, and I would see you both safe and taken care of.”_

_She was going to protest, he could tell._

_“Don’t answer me now, just give it some time and think on it.” He implored._

_She sighed. He meant well, and she was indebted to him for the help he’d given her, but she knew her answer would be no. “I will do as you ask and think about it.”_

_“Thank you.” He pressed a warm kiss to her cheek, and before he pulled away the sound of a man’s boots approached from the gravel path behind them._

_“Whoa, my apologies. Take your time.” Perseus threw up his hands in surrender and walked back outside to give them privacy. She cast her gaze downward to hide the hurt evident on her face, the baby starting with hiccups. It never failed, if she ran into Perseus in town, or heard his voice for any reason and the baby would respond. Whether it be a kick, or flip, or in this case, hiccups. She wasn’t sure if it was because her heart felt like it leapt into her throat when he was near, or if he or she truly did recognize his deep voice._

_Icarus felt sympathy for her. “Are you alright?”_

_She nodded, “Yes, I’ll be fine.” Far from it._

_Weeks ago she had walked all the way to the village after Perseus left her at the edge of the beach, and the only one to open his door to her was Icarus. She explained that Perseus had suffered a ‘blow to the head’ and had lost his memory. He gave her a hot meal and shelter in the rooms above his shop until she could get her feet under her._

_She worked night and day in the weeks following the battle, the village’s only surgeon was overwhelmed with the wounded and she was able to help with her herbal experience and medical knowledge gleaned from a pile of books in a small shack, on a disappearing island._

_The townsfolk were grateful, and subsequently accepted her as a substitute healer for when the surgeon was away or beyond a patient’s financial means. No one had questioned her when she took up residence of her own in a tiny, abandoned cottage by the beach. It reminded her of her island hideaway, and it wasn’t too much more elaborate than that basic structure._

_Marcellus had tracked her down in the days following the fight and she had given the same excuse, he’d sustained a head injury and lost part of his memory. The boy came to visit her once a week and she truly treasured her time with him. He smuggled some of her belongings from the house for her and kept her abreast of any new developments. One day he brought her coin and she sent it back with him, she would not burden the few friends she had left._

_Perseus, it turned out, had come to Icarus that day for a shoe that had come loose on one of Isolde’s hind hooves. She went to leave the stables and let them work, when the horse recognized her and pulled from Perseus to nudge her shoulder. She couldn’t resist giving her a long, affectionate pet in response._

_“Sorry about that, she’s usually not so nosey.” He smiled. He was polite to her, kind even. As polite and kind as one could be to a whore turned healer who didn’t know who the father of her baby was._

_It was ridiculous, the situation they were in. He stood two feet from her thinking her a low bred stranger when their child did flips in her belly at the sound of his voice. She wanted to reply, I know, she’s the most docile horse I’d ever ridden. But instead, “No trouble at all, she’s beautiful. Does she have a name?” Please, please…_

_He chuckled, “I really just call her ‘horse’, silly as it sounds.”_

_Anything involving her was a black hole in his mind, and he was none the wiser._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

Yennefer sat on a stool in the middle of the production company’s sound booth. True to his word, Jaskier had offered her voice to record a few songs that would be included on the show’s soundtrack. What he neglected to tell her, was that she had five am time slots in the booth all week. 

Her dark hair was wound in a messy bun atop her head, the loose tank over her gym shorts and sports bra complimented her bright pink running shoes. She planned to meet Geralt at the small gym after her time slot, but the sound engineer had been so impressed with her voice that he asked her to do a few more recordings. 

They wanted to use an orchestral version of Avicii’s _Wake Me Up_ when the credits rolled on Eirene’s last scene. He pointed at her through the glass and she slipped the headphones over her ears. Haunting piano notes filled her senses and she closed her eyes, her voice soft but strong.

“Feeling my way through the darkness, Guided by a beating heart, I can't tell where the journey will end, But I know where to start,”

She opened her eyes and he wore a huge grin, his excited hand beckoning her for more. She shut her eyes again and pretended she was at home in her shower, belting out the next verse as though she’d written the words herself.  


“They tell me I'm too young to understand, They say I'm caught up in a dream…“  
———

She jogged from the studio to the gym, the air was cooler than she expected so she kept up a brisk pace. Swinging open the door, she caught her breath as she walked in. One would expect it to be essentially empty at that hour, barring herself, Geralt and likely Chireadan who never missed a morning workout. 

Instead she found a whole group of her cast mates clustered around the weight benches in the front of the room, whooping and cheering. Geralt and Ragnar were both set up on the flat benches, Chireadan behind them spotting, and likely the only one who would be any actual help if either of the men needed it. 

Both bars clanged back in their racks and young, innocent Dara was dancing around with his fists in the air. Eskel kept a weary eye on the proceedings, a few other men from the set crew were gathered to watch, and Jaskier stood scrawling their bets on that _damn_ clipboard. Geralt had mentioned his little betting ring to her, how he had half the production crew had spent weeks sniffing around her love life, waiting to see if she and Geralt would quit fighting and use their pent up aggression in a more productive manner. 

Geralt was a big man, but Ragnar’s excessive height gave him more torso to pack on muscle and his frame leaned a bit more toward Chireadan’s build than Geralt’s streamlined strength. Geralt was clearly the underdog, and again, Jaskier thought he was going to get his grubby little fingers on more money at their expense.

“Jaskier,” her tone left no room for argument, “exactly what is going on here?” They all seemed to realize she was there at the same time, and Jaskier and Dara began to fumble through a half believable explanation. “Save it.” She silenced them. She met Geralt’s gaze and found desire reflected back at her. He loved it when she stood her ground, her sassy tone turned him on. 

She turned back to Jaskier. “A thousand.” 

“Dollars?” Disbelief clear on his face. 

She walked closer, her voice low. “A thousand dollars on Geralt.” Dara gasped behind her. “And Jaskier, if he hurts himself I’m going to hold you personally responsible.” 

She walked toward the stretching area, smacking Eskel’s palm in his offered high five. The sound broke the silent spell she had woven and they resumed their jeers and whistles. Eskel and Chireadan loaded more weights onto the bars and with the slide of metal the two men began grunting and blowing out measured breaths as the bars rose and the Dara counted out loud. 

She stretched her arms over her head and prayed he didn’t overdo it. The men got louder and one of the bars slammed down on the hooks. She waited another full minute before the second hit home. She couldn’t look. Suddenly Geralt strode past her toward the locker room. She pretended to be disinterested, putting down the resistance band she held and following him back, her head held high. 

She pushed through the door and saw him standing by the long wooden bench in the center of the room. She rushed over, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you alright?! What’s pulled, did you feel a tear?” She ran her fingers over his shoulders, waiting for him to cry out in pain. Instead, he tugged her into his arms and sealed his lips over hers, slanting his mouth to take possession with his tongue. 

He palmed her firm buttocks through her shorts, sliding her hips flush with his, her soft moan causing him to repeat the motion with more force. She broke their kiss, searching his expression for repressed pain. He wasn’t hurt, he was horny. She had put him on the spot in front of the men, she aught to make it up to him. She laid her finger over his lips, “Shhhhhhh” her sultry tone matching the hand that pushed past the waistbands of his shorts and boxers. 

She ran her palm along his hard length and he leaned into her touch, doing his best to keep quiet as she swirled her fingers over his sensitive tip. She nudged her nose against the short beard that had been a few days forming on his chin before retrieving her hand and pushing both garments down toward his knees. 

Nosing her way down his chest, she flicked her tongue against his naval the same way he liked to tease her, before landing a chaste kiss, the firm muscle underneath twitching with her attention. She moved lower and nuzzled his cock, jutting proudly from the juncture of his thighs, it’s subtle curve and considerable size responsible for exquisite way he left her breathless and pleasantly sore time and again.

She licked her blush tinted lips and swirled her tongue over his swollen head, his skin smooth and warm. His eyes were dark with lust as he watched her lick broad strokes over the length of him. Her hand reached low to caress him when she took him into her mouth, his breathing ragged by the time her flushed lips reached the base. He couldn’t help but groan softly when her nose pressed into his abdominals. “ _Yen_ ”

She slid up and down, relaxing her throat and increasing her pace when his hand fell to her head and massaged her scalp. His hips twitched once, and again, clearly beyond his control and she gripped both of his thighs and moaned. He released his lip from the brutal clamp of his teeth and tried to warn her, but she only rolled her tongue and sucked harder. 

She hung on while he jerked against her, swallowing rapidly to keep up with his thrusts. He eased the pressure he didn’t realize he’d had on the back of her head and blew out a stuttered breath, lazy smile plastered on his face. 

She released him gently, tucking him back in his shorts with a kiss. He helped her stand and stretch her knees, burying his face in her neck and holding her tight. His hand traveled to her shorts and she shoo’d him, “There’s no time, they’re waiting for you.” 

He captured her mouth in a firm kiss before she pulled back, “I’m sorry I pressured you into that with Ragnar, I was just so annoyed at Jaskier in that moment and I couldn’t resist. I’ll take the money from my mom’s winnings on the _other_ bet, it’s only fair.” 

He laughed, “Sweetheart, I won.” He kissed her again and made his way to the door, turning back, “That little shit gave three to one odds against me, make sure he gives you every dime.” 

\------

:: _  
Eirene walked slowly from the butcher’s shop, a strip of salted beef added to the fresh produce in her bag. She had eased his wife’s pain, severe arthritis in her knees, and in exchange given her the meat. She was grateful. She had a feeling the baby would be coming soon, and the addition to her provisions was most welcome. She wouldn’t be able to work for at least a week, and that was assuming things went well._

_She turned when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. The boy seemed to grow a foot every time she saw him. Marcellus wrapped her in a warm hug, always careful of her belly. He missed her. He’d come to think of her as a mother figure, and he was outraged at the turn of events that separated her from them._

_“I hate him.” She knew who ‘he’ was without asking._

_“You don’t. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t remember.” She put her arm on his, her hand warm and comforting._

_“I do. He’s brought some woman home, to your home. Her name is Daphne and she’s very beautiful, but she doesn’t belong there. You and the baby belong there, safe in your bed, not –“_

_She hushed him, reassuring him that she would be fine and he should stop worrying about her. They reached the end of the dirt street, the path he would need to take forking from hers._

_“These things will happen sweeting. I’m so sorry you’re upset for me, try to take heart. Give her a chance, I’m sure she’s a kind woman.”_

_She calmed him down and sent him on his way with a kiss to his cheek. Once he was beyond her line of sight and she was alone, she closed her eyes. She stumbled to her knees in the dirt, her hand pressed over her mouth as she sobbed._ ::

———  
-Geralt-

Geralt groaned and tried to slip back into his dream. 

//He was bent over the edge of a rocky cliff, the brisk wind blowing his plaid kilt. One arm kept him in place on the sharp rocks and the other hung over the edge, her little hand held in his tight. The muscles in his shoulder pulled and burned, her whimpers and fear carrying on the wind to his ears. 

He growled, trying to heave her up and over the edge, but her hand began slipping through his. She was blurry, but there was no mistaking her long, obsidian curls. The same plaid pattern he wore wrapped around her white dress, both flailing wildly as she dangled. 

She slipped another half an inch. Her blurry face looked up at him, “I’m scared.” Her tone was one of defeat.

“Hang _on_ ,” he demanded, pulling with renewed, desperate energy. 

“I lov - ,” her delicate hand slipped through his, and she fell.\\\

He shuddered and opened his eyes, the bright light of his phone screen telling him it was still early. He’d been sleeping on his arm, but the tingling was nothing compared to the hot burn of the muscles in his dream. Her side of his bed was empty, and something mechanical was running in the other room. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and opened the bedroom door. 

The beautiful maiden from his dream sat on his carpet, vacuuming their dog. 

He rubbed his eyes and looked again, yes, he was seeing clearly. The fierce little guard dog laid on his back in her lap as she brushed the fur on his belly into the little vacuum. She turned it off and he whined.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you. He needs to be dropped off soon.” She stood up and dusted the fur off of her robe. Geralt yawned and stretched as though he was a mighty lion sunning himself in the Sahara. He held his hand out, pulling her into his arms and inhaling the sweet scent of her gooseberry shampoo. She slipped her arms around his waist and gave his shoulder blades a squeeze. “I’ll take him, go back to sleep.” She offered.

Kosmos was almost six months old and they had enrolled him in a beginner obedience class. They would drop him off early for free play with the other dogs, and Cerys would work with him and take him home with her. They were headed up to London for a charity race Geralt participated in every year, held to benefit a local wildlife preserve. 

“I had a thought, why don’t we stop in Kensington on the way to the race.” He circled the pads of his thumbs over her sides. 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run away when I see your bachelor pad? Clothes and empty pizza boxes tossed about.” She teased. 

“Better you know now I suppose.” He shrugged, inching his lips closer to hers until she grew impatient and closed the distance between them.

———  
-Yennefer-

She didn’t expect his home to be quite the pit she had teased him about, but she certainly didn’t foresee the beautifully appointed mansion they pulled up in front of. Kensington was an incredibly posh area of London and his home was breathtaking. She supposed that’s what years of hard work and success bought you. He explained that normally he went through the garage that sat at the far end of the winding drive, but he would give her a tour proper enough for the queen. 

He opened up the double doors and ushered her from the pristine white brick façade, into an expansive foyer. High ceilings and two curved staircases gave way to an open dining room that would seat eight at the least. Everything was done in a contemporary white and black palate, from the quatrefoil upholstered dining chairs to the jet black wooden trim on the staircases. 

“Before you begin to question why everything isn’t just made of beer cans and antlers, I’ll admit that my mother chose all the furnishings and décor. She’s in interior decorator, and no, I didn’t have a choice.” 

She nodded in acknowledgement but her eyes darted from piece to piece, beautiful draperies and comfortable looking furniture filled the rooms, each seemingly more cozy and inviting than the last. His kitchen made her knees weak, her father would thoroughly enjoy clanging his baking pans around in it and using Geralt’s cutting edge appliances. The main living room boasted vaulted ceilings and expansive ebony trimmed windows that peered out over his fenced in yard. 

A covered lanai was filled with comfortable looking white and black furniture and pillows, soothing pillar candles and a vast assortment of plants and succulents. A tiled walkway lead to a disconnected patio farther in the yard, canopied in and housing an outdoor eating area, bar and grill. Little white lights lined almost every wall and post, and she imagined he had hosted some very beautiful and important people on warm summer nights. She felt his hand on her waist and realized both of her palms were pushed flat on the clean glass door as she drooled over his outdoor space.

She grimaced at the hand prints she left, it was unlike her to be so careless. He grunted at her obvious embarrassment. “I’m glad, now I can see when the damn thing is shut. My assistant keeps them so fucking clean I walked right into it one day. I swore so much I think I invented some new curse words.”

Something occurred to him all of a sudden and he took her hand and excitedly tugged her toward the stairs. She raced to keep up with his long strides, laughing behind him. He stopped her at the door to what must have been the master bathroom and told her to close her eyes. He opened the door and guided her along the soft carpeting, turned her shoulders and told her to open them again.

Laid out in front of her was the most luxurious closet she’d ever seen. A continuation of the clean black and white theme, it was so large it had an island in the center. A cushioned bench set adjacent an elaborate rotating shoe rack, followed by more shelves, hooks, rods, and drawers than she’d ever seen in one room. It was magnificent, and completely empty. 

She looked at him questioningly, “My stuff is in the closet on the other side.” 

“You could hide a small family in here, it’s absolutely gorgeous.” She smiled and took his hand, thinking they would be moving on. 

“Didn’t you tell Eskel that if his closets were big enough his girlfriend would want to move in?” He really did listen to what she said, serious or idle chatter.

“Well yes, I was teasing him and also being nosey and –“ 

He interrupted her, “So, you don’t want to? Move in?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything wrong with her moving back home once shooting for season two was over. Her parents had a big beautiful home and they would always welcome her back. She wasn’t a blushing sixteen year old any longer though, and her manager had side projects and other castings lined up for her due to the success of Atlantis. She could get her own place, or she supposed she could take him up on his offer. 

He could see she was waging an internal battle. “There’s no pressure, think about it though.” He buried his nose in her hair, tracing the feminine flair of her hips and down over her compression leggings. “I’d love to leave a few more prints,” he gave her rear a squeeze, “on some other flat surfaces in this place before I die. I’m old if you remember.” 

\------  
-Geralt-

He thought they could weave in through the back parking lot and arrive a bit more subtly, but instead, the crowd was waiting for him. They parted like the red sea, all phones, flashes and excited murmuring for his annual appearance in support of the animals. Geralt’s black BMW motorcycle was easily recognizable in London, he rode it every day that there wasn’t snow in the streets. Both riders were dressed in all black, from their sleek compression pants for running to their matching helmets.

She slid off the back of the bike when he parked it, and when he pulled his helmet off there was a chorus of cheers. They still didn’t know who had accompanied him. She lifted the helmet past her ears, and when her now iconic raven hair fell to her back, they went wild. Excited fans and supporters of the charity pushed closer, looking for autographs, hugs and photos. 

He moved to put her between himself and the bike. He was an idiot, he should have known her presence would make things all the more chaotic. She signed the shirts of some thrilled fans, and then gave Geralt’s a subtle tug. He leaned and she spoke into his ear to be heard over the din. He smiled. She was right, it had been long enough, and the publicity would bring much needed attention for the animals. 

She brushed her thumb over the dimple in his cheek and rocked onto her toes. He captured her lips, his broad hands rising to cradle her jaw. The enthusiastic fans who’d gathered close could barely contain themselves. Their lips parted, contented smiles mirroring one another. He pressed another kiss to her temple and they began weaving through the crowd toward the starting line. 

They met Eskel on the way to check in and get their bibs, and he felt better knowing the person on the other side of her wasn’t going to grab at her or crowd them. His phone began vibrating constantly only a few minutes after their kiss and he was sure hers was as well, social media at it’s finest. They took their places at the front of the line, stretching a bit before one last brave photographer jumped in front of them. He followed her lead and pointed to the _Save the Animals_ slogan on his shirt as she did, her soft lips kissing his cheek as he smiled. 

Eskel cleared his throat, “So _that’s_ what’s got them so wild today. It’s about damn time.” His knuckles connected with Geralt’s and he gave Yennefer a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, sis.” 

\------

:: _She woke to terrible pain. It tore through her belly a radiated up her back, taking her breath away. She forced herself to keep calm and puff air deeply through her mouth. She was as prepared as she could be, her washbasin, clean linens, boiled blade and a few different teas ready to try for the pain. She worked between contractions, stoking a fire in the small hearth and gathering a few extra pieces of driftwood. By the level of the moon after what seemed like an eternity, she calculated that dawn was fast approaching, but a fierce storm with it._

_Echoing thunder rumbled in the distance and she paced in front of the cottage. It wasn’t long before lightning cracked and split the sky in half, bringing with it a downpour of cold rain. She gripped the doorframe, face contorted in pain as the refreshing water rolled down her already sweat soaked body. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but she could swear the water felt like her father’s cool hand holding her cheek._

_The next wave was absolutely agonizing and brought with it pressure. She hung her soaked nightgown by the fire and laid down on the soft pallet, it was layered with towels and cloth to preserve the small feathered mattress below. She propped herself up on her hands and knees, listening to her body’s cues to push._

_Rain water rolled down her bare back from her thick plait, a distraction from the white hot pain that tore through her. Wave after wave she gripped the wooden bed frame with white knuckles, gritting her teeth together until it was too much and she screamed. She wailed into her pillow, wondering if it was fate’s wish for her to die alone, the birthing too much for her small frame._

_She slumped down on her side, her breath coming in sharp pants, rolling onto her back with the next spasm of her body. Pushing through the pain, her harsh cry was absorbed into the storm as it rolled along the beach. She went limp, tears leaking down her cheeks, flushed pink with exertion._

_Frustrated Eirene reached down between her legs and froze when she felt hair, the baby’s head. Determined, she doubled her efforts and pushed with all her might, the veins in her neck jumping as she bore down. She screamed. First the head, then on a strained push the baby’s shoulders slipped free._

_She leaned foreword quickly, pushing her fingertips past tiny red lips and clearing the fluid. He squealed, his tiny face beet red, angry at being thrust from his warm home. Letting out a relieved sob, she cradled his tiny body close to her chest. She cleaned him gently, taking inventory of his ten fingers and toes, deep blue eyes staring back at her. He whimpered, sucking his lips and she helped him take her breast._

_The storm was over and the sun crept through her lone window. She didn’t leave the cottage for a full three days, exhausted and seeing to the babe. At dawn on the fourth day she stepped outside, her son tucked against her chest and the sand beneath her toes. She walked until the waves kissed her ankles, the gentle sea breeze rustling the fine dark blond hair on the baby’s head._

_He squinted his crystal blue eyes curiously, new smells and sounds filling his senses. “Thank you for the storm papa.” She spoke to no one, yet she knew he could hear._

_She spoke to the child in a soft lilt. “You are a special boy my Theseus. Your grandfathers are Zeus, god of this bright blue sky, and Poseidon, god of the sea that washes over my feet. They will always watch over you sweet baby.” She brushed her cheek against his soft skin, pressing a kiss to his brow._ ::

———  
-Geralt-

Jaskier walked over to the edge of the bed, her hair plastered to her face with real sweat. She straightened her legs and the linen went with them, her eyes threatening to close on the soft mattress. He loomed over her, waving his hand to get her attention. 

“You look icky.” He scrunched up his nose. 

She groaned, “I’ve had six fake babies today, how should I look?”

“Yenna, goddess of all that glitters and swims like lightning, can you do it once more? I want to pan right up over you when he’s born, then back the other way when you lean over and grab him. Got some screams left sister?” 

She nodded. Geralt knew she was tired, her throat had to be terribly sore. If the last three times were any indication, he had a few minutes. Her bloodcurdling screams followed him around the soundstage and he winced, stepping outside into the ocean air. 

He stepped up into her trailer, Kosmos busy on the floor trying to lick the peanut butter from a bone shaped toy. After the required circles and jumping, the dog was satisfied with the attention and praise Geralt gave him. He dug out her blender from under the sink and went to the freezer to grab her chocolate ice cream. It had been almost four months since the gala, and they were inseparable. He knew there would be chocolate ice cream in her freezer the same way she knew there would always be steaks in his fridge.

The dog hid under the table when the machine rattled to life and he added instant coffee and milk. She’d been filming Eirene’s labor and delivery for days, and he wondered if her voice would ever return to it’s normal soothing tone. She collapsed into bed every night and woke so stiff she could barely walk. No one could accuse her of not putting her all into the role. 

The door handle rattled and she hobbled up the steps just as he set the last clean piece of the blender on her drying mat. “Perseus, you rat bastard.” She grumbled. He handed her the milkshake and she cooed, letting the cold liquid sooth her raw throat. 

“For getting her pregnant or the magical lobotomy?” He ushered her to sit on one of the small barstools with her back to him, his strong hands working patterns into her knotted muscles. She took another sip of the milkshake and moaned, letting her head fall forward and her body melt under his ministrations. 

“Pregnant. Even if you were in the scene all you could do was try not to get your fingers broken.” She gasped when he pressed into a tender spot. “Thank you for this,” she lifted the cup, “it’s phenomenal.” 

“You’re welcome beautiful.” He kissed the shell of her ear. 

“’m not beautiful today. Jaskier said I look icky.” She groaned and muttered a curse when his thumb eased the tension in the muscles at the base of her neck. The more relaxed she became, the tighter his pants stretched. 

“You’ve been in labor with this stubborn baby for three days, is it safe to assume we’ll be using condoms until this trauma has passed?” He teased. 

“Two, double.” She held up two fingers and he laughed. 

\--------

-Yennefer-

She sipped hot tea from one of Geralt’s oversized mugs while he was in the shower, scrolling through emails from her manager on her new laptop. She clicked into a casting for a virtually unknown director, a film about an aspiring female artist who was assaulted by a gallery owner and returned a changed woman to take her revenge. She bookmarked it, unsure if she herself was even an artist anymore. The new supplies Geralt had been so kind to give her for her birthday sat on the windowsill, but she didn’t know where to start without her old sketches and books. 

Kosmos hopped up from the floor by her feet and trotted to the door, as though someone was on the other side. She disregarded it when she didn’t hear a knock. Suddenly a key turned the lock and her ex-boyfriend stood watching Kosmos growl. 

“What the hell Cahir!?” She cinched her robe, clad only in her bra and panties. She walked to to the door and clipped a leash to the dog’s collar. She handn’t seen him in weeks, actively avoiding each other like the plague. Geralt insisted he was the one who’d tampered with the equipment on set that had almost killed her, and she had a strong feeling it was he who’d terrorized her condo with such rage. They had plenty of theories and hunches, but what they lacked was proof. 

“Please, leave. There is nothing we need to talk about that can’t be done over email.” She tried to close the door and shuffle him back out. 

“Yenna, please.” She winced at the use of her nickname.

“Where did you get that key?” He ignored her and pulled out a teal velvet covered Tiffany’s box, and opened it to reveal the biggest, most gaudy engagement ring she’d ever seen. 

“I forgive you darling. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few months and I’m sure by now you regret your decision. I forgive you, marry me and let’s put this… _him_ behind us.” 

Kosmos pulled on leash, unhappy with the exchange above him and the horrified look on Yennefer’s face. 

“Cahir, I am truly sorry things didn’t work out between us, but I’m very happy with my life now. The truth is, I felt more when I was acting, kissing another man than I did when we were together. We just weren’t the right fit.”

He began to lose his patience. “It’s all Thornwald. He’s manipulating you, lying to you. He’s going to throw you to the gutter when the next pretty young thing comes along, and I won’t be there to pick you up out of it. This is a one time offer to fix your mistake Yennefer.”

She didn’t understand how a person could be so wrong, delusional about the people around him and full of himself. 

“I cared for you when we first met Cahir, but honestly I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did. You’ve gone too far, this is too much. I’m sorry, but please leave.” She tried to close the door and he blocked it with his body. 

He grabbed her by the chin, his fingers rough, anger that she hadn’t fallen in with his plans evident. “Listen you ungrateful little bitch.” Her eyes were wide, afraid of what he was capable of and shocked that it had come to this. “I can make your life a living hell. You’ll never work in this industry again. I have very powerful friends - politicians, lawyers…police. I’m untouchable.” He pushed her face away forcefully and sneered at her.

All these months she had held in her feelings, tried to make peace so they could work in a pleasant environment. She wanted to be mature, a responsible grown woman capable of handling her relationships wisely and with grace, but he made it so hard. 

“Did you break into my apartment and write those hideous things on my walls?”

He smiled. She wanted to cry. 

“Did you…did you try to hurt me in that pool?” She held her breath, hoping against all reason that it wasn’t true. 

His tone was nonchalant. “It was supposed to be Thornwald, but I couldn’t switch the shooting schedules around in time.” 

She snapped, hauling back and slapping him with all her might. “You fucking bastard!” Her curse ended in a shout and she heard the shower shut off. 

He turned back toward her and gingerly palmed the pink cheek she struck. He lunged for her and Kosmos yanked the leash from her grip, barreling into his legs and throwing him off balance. Cahir fell and took Yennefer down with him. His full weight landed on top of her, knocking the breath from her lungs. 

His face was pressed into her chest as he tried to get his bearings and suddenly it contorted and he roared in pain. Strong hands slid her out from underneath him and Cahir kicked at the dog attached to the back of his calf. He landed a solid blow and sent Kosmos skittering across the floor. He was still a puppy, had he been full grown, a piece of his leg would likely have gone as well.

Geralt was trying to check her for injuries and she struggled against him, reaching for the whimpering dog. Cahir stood and checked the back of his leg, a few small punctures from the puppy’s baby teeth, but no significant damage. Not according to Cahir. 

“Is that enough for you?!” He shouted down the hallway behind him. 

A man in a suit and a uniform police officer entered the room out of nowhere. A third man entered and began taking photos of his leg and of various things around the room. Cahir had set her up. 

She reached Kosmos and ignored the chaos in the room. Geralt was behind her trying to slow the police, “What is the meaning of this? Can I see a warrant?” The dog was favoring his leg. When she took a closer look she saw that it lay at a funny angle. Tears began to leak down her cheeks. 

The man in the suit introduced himself as a detective, handed Geralt a pile of paper and pulled Yennefer away from the dog to handcuff her. Cahir was giving his statement to the uniformed officer, telling an exaggerated story of how she assaulted him and then he was attacked by the dog at her command. 

Geralt was flabbergasted, he didn’t know which fire to put out first. The detective tightened the cuffs around her wrists and she winced. “Geralt!” She broke him from his panic. “Take Kosmos first, his leg isn’t right. He had a key Geralt!” The detective pulled her toward the door. “Call my mother, but take him first!” She disappeared around the doorframe. 

Cahir demanded an ambulance and Geralt got a closer look at his leg. He’d done worse to his fingers opening a beer that wasn’t a twist off cap. The entire thing was a set up, a charade. Yet another blow, that he wasn’t sure if Yennefer could take. Almost as soon as the chaos had broken out it was over. 

Without so much as telling him what jail they were taking her to, they left. No matter, he would find out. He checked Kosmos, and just as she said, his leg was probably broken. He wouldn’t put any weight on it and cried when he prodded his little limb. He dressed quickly, realizing they’d taken her in only her robe. That son of a bitch was going to pay for all of this. 

What the bastard didn’t know was that Geralt had had his entire condo set up with security cameras after Yennefer’s was vandalized. He would have proof of whatever had gone on while he was in the shower, and the corrupt police waiting in the hall. Instead of calling her mother he dialed his father. Geralt would get her the best lawyer he knew, and Griffin Thornwald was it. He gathered up the dog and let the door slam behind him. 

———

-Geralt-

He sat in the waiting room at the emergency veterinary clinic when his phone vibrated, a French area code, a number he didn’t know. Kosmos was getting a cast put on his leg, the break wan’t too severe, the veterinarian predicted a full recovery with some rest. Geralt’s father had jumped on the red eye and had already left the police station where was was being held. 

They wouldn’t let him see her, but she was in a cell with only one other woman and they could see her first thing in the morning. Cahir was pressing charges against Yennefer for assault, and against Geralt for the dog bite. His father reassured him they would be able to bail her out in the morning and their countersuits would bleed Cahir dry. Not to mention the criminal charges he was sure the French police would bring once their video evidence was brought to light.

He picked up the call. “Il s'agit d'un appel à frais virés depuis la prison de Marseille-Baumettes. Acceptez-vous les frais?” 

“J’accepte.” He waited a moment. 

Her voice was timid and he sat up straighter in his seat. “Geralt?”

“Yen, thank god, are you alright?” 

“Is he alright? Kosmos, is he - “

“He’s gonna be fine, he’s got fracture but they’re casting it and he’ll be just fine.” He put his head in his hands when he heard her small sob. 

“Tell me you’re alright Yen.” 

“I’m okay. I’m so sorry.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong and we’ve got the whole thing on video. My dad’s already been to the station. He’s your attorney and we’re countersuing Cahir. The police are launching an investigation into the lighting equipment.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t sound relieved. “A really great way for me to meet your parents…I can’t believe this.” 

“He’s the best I know. We’ll both be there first thing tomorrow to pick you up. You’ll be alright until then?”

She took a heavy breath, “Geralt, I - “

The line disconnected, their two minutes was over.

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Istredd, Dara and Jaskier sat on the sofa in her little studio room. 

Interviewer: “It’s so wonderful to have some fresh faces today! Is everything alright with our leading couple?”

Jaskier: “They’re just great, but we kicked them out so they could have a little romantic time together, you know how it is with a new couple.” 

I: “Of course! Wonderful! So Istredd and Dara, tell me about your enhanced roles so far this season.”

Jaskier could tell she was suspicious, but Geralt had told him she was highly discreet. The woman had become their friend, and it was a good thing, because they would need her to help control the narrative that would flow when Yennefer’s mug shot surfaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: If you don’t feel bad for Eirene you don’t have a heart! Kidding, but not XD  
> Wake Me Up by Avicii, the version she’s singing to is Tommee Profitt and Fluerie (Piano/orchestral cover - Love this!)  
> The Durrell race is of course borrowed from Henry’s real life as I have done with many things.  
> I know, Theseus (Immortals) but I couldn’t resist!  
> Griffin of Temeria was the fifth king of Temeria, his queen Clarissa of Toussaint


	9. Bad Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis's leading lady does her time in the big house, and the tables are turned on a nasty ex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up folks, this is a long one! Angst, drama, smut and fluff :D  
> Bad Dream, Ruelle

-Yennefer-

“Tourner sur le côté.” The big woman’s raspy voice barked at her while she motioned for her to turn. Yennefer turned to the side and waited while she took her photo. She pulled the silky robe tighter over her waist. She spent hours on set topless, but she had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in her underwear and robe. She was fingerprinted and searched, neither experience one she wished to repeat. 

A young male officer ushered her into temporary holding cell, another woman already sitting on the opposite bench from the one Yennefer gravitated toward. She was beautiful, a sassy looking blonde, part of her scalp buzzed underneath her shiny hair. She wore a trendy leather jacket, ripped jeans and thick black boots. She was a stark contrast to Yennefer’s classic dark curls and feminine robe, her feet bare as she tucked them under her body. 

“Merveilleuse salope chère.” The blonde grumbled, not bothering to hide her irritation at losing her private cell. 

Yennefer just laid her head against the tiled wall and closed her eyes, trying to ignore her. 

“Pris au piège avec une prostituée, je vais attraper une maladie.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French, but I can assure you I’m not a prostitute.” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice.

“Then why are you here practically naked?”

She spoke English, convenient. “I was getting ready for bed when my ex-boyfriend broke in and threatened me. He kicked my dog, and this is after completely trashing my place and trying to kill me.” She hoped the woman would pull back her aggressive tone if she knew Yennefer wasn’t a threat. 

Instead, she leaned forward, fascinated. “Merde sister, give me the details on this sad mother fucker. Sounds like he could use a nice new design carved into his car.” 

Yennefer’s eyes brightened a bit, what the hell did it matter if she told her, it would be all over the internet soon anyway. 

———

:: _Eirene held Theseus to her chest with one arm and stirred a kettle of stew in the hearth with the other. He was close to three months, and the best thing that had ever happened to her. Even so young he was smart and observant, a happy boy already used to her routine and calm while she treated patients. Unless he was hungry, in which case his tiny bellow demanded an immediate remedy for the ache in his belly._

_His blue eyes seemed to grow deeper by the day, but the rest of him was his father. From his light hair to his vibrant facial expressions. She stepped from the hearth and laid him in a soft quilt, leaving him one of the wooden toys Marcellus had carved. She stepped outside to gather enough wood to get them through the night, when she could make out the outline of a man running toward the little cottage._

_She hurried back inside to fetch her dagger, but she would recognize his voice anywhere, he was calling for her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she tried to keep from hoping. He skittered to a stop near her door and she greeted him._

_“I need your help, please. It’s Daphne, she’s been sick all day, she never got out of bed and she’s burning up.” The surgeon had set sail for one of the neighboring islands and he was desperate for her help. The more urgent his tone, the more he obviously cared for this woman, and the further her heart sank._

_“Yes, I’ll help you. Let me just gather a few things.” She pulled together her jars and sachets of herbs, handing him her bag. She tucked Theseus and his small toy inside the wrap that held him snugly to her chest. He whistled for Tristan and helped her mount the tall stallion before swinging his leg up and over behind her and spurring the animal into a quick trot._

_She closed her eyes against the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around her once again, his broad chest warm against her back. The baby had never ridden before and she feared he would fuss, but he was content to stare at Perseus over her shoulder. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the fascination was mutual, the view from his taller seat one of a curious little face nestled against her bosom._

_They approached the house and the view hit her hard, the months she’d spent there with him were happy ones, while they anticipated the arrival of their baby and made the property their home. Marcellus rushed out and helped her dismount. If Perseus thought there was anything amiss due to their easy going trust and companionship he didn’t voice his concerns._

_She stopped before entering her…the bedroom, and handed the sleepy baby to the young man. She didn’t know what she would encounter beyond the door, and she asked Perseus to stay behind as well. The room was stuffy and dark, a low fire burning in the hearth. She opened the curtains and began examining the woman._

_Marcellus was right, she was very beautiful, but she supposed a man like Perseus had his choice of available ladies. Unfortunately, she was as ill as she was gorgeous. Eirene rang out the cloth in the basin of cool water by her bed and pressed it to the woman’s flushed throat. She roused from her feverish sleep and her eyes narrowed when she made out Eirene’s face._

_“You couldn’t wait until I was in the ground to take him, could you?” She sounded bitter and defeated._

_“I’m here to help you, I’m not taking anyone. Everything will be alright, I’ll do my best to get you well again soon. I’ll come back with some tea, I need you to drink it all so will help you. Can you do that for me?”_

_Daphne’s face softened when she realized Eirene was being genuine. “I’m sorry. I’ve seen you watching him is all, when we were at the market, and I thought you might be interested in taking him from me.” Eirene fought the urge to laugh, then cry. She feared she would lose Perseus to another woman, how bloody ironic._

_“He doesn’t have eyes for me, you’ve nothing to fear. Let me get you that tea, I’ll be right back.”_

———  
-Geralt-  
-The Next Morning-

He set the bowl of wet food on the floor for Kosmos and he gobbled it up. The painkillers the vet had given him the night before had worn off and he was his happy self again. He pressed a kiss to the soft tan fur on the top of his head. “Good boy, protecting mama from the evil bastard.” Kosmos’s tail thumped on the floor in light of the praise. 

Cerys arrived with a pile of her schoolwork, prepared to stay with Kosmos. He showed her the new deadbolt lock he’d installed the night before, condo contract be damned. Cahir must have flexed his position with the production company to get his key, likely the same thing he’d done with her place. Geralt felt guilty, he let her optimism get to him and he’d let his guard down. 

He thanked Cerys and she locked the door behind him. It was still dark outside when he climbed into his father’s town car. “Thank you for coming.”

Griffin Thornwald was never one to say much, a few words went a long way from him. There was no question he loved his wife Clarissa and their boys, but you wouldn’t catch him waxing poetic about it. “Of course.” He opened his briefcase and began pulling out some motions he wanted Geralt to look over while his driver navigated the French streets to the police station. 

He paused. “Geralt, you’ve never once asked me for help. Your mother tells me you care about this girl, what does that mean.” 

Geralt looked up from the report in his hands, staring a the back of the seat in front of him. “It means, I wish I could’ve taken her place in there. It means I don’t know how I used to get through the day, before we met.” He cleared his throat and turned to his father. “I love her.” 

He raised an eyebrow before giving his son’s shoulder a squeeze under his big hand. “Good for you Geralt.” He handed the younger man another short stack of paper. “Now, let’s get through this police report and get the future mother of my grandchildren out of the slammer.” 

Geralt choked on air and his father laughed out loud. 

———

:: _She closed the door behind her and the sight of Perseus, hopeful and anxious for her news would have broken her heart if there were any pieces left big enough to break. She ushered them down the stairs so their voices couldn’t be heard through the door._

_“I fear she has consumption.” He closed his eyes and dropped heavily to the bench sitting against the wall. “I’m willing to stay with her, and try everything I have that might help. Based on her symptoms it seems to be rather advanced, but that doesn’t mean she can’t recover. I would ask one thing before I begin to treat her.”_

_His mind caught up with her words, “What is it?”_

_“With your permission I’d like Marcellus to watch over my son. Consumption is catching, it spreads through tiny droplets in the air - coughing, sneezing. I’ll not confine myself to that room only to have him fall ill at such a young age. I’ll cover my face when I feed him, but he knows you and I trust you Marcellus, will you take care of him for a time?”_

_Perseus nodded and Marcellus agreed without hesitation, it would be his honor to do so. She unpacked her medical bag and instructed the boy on making the tea while she sat and fed Theseus. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake, putting herself in harm’s way with the baby so young, but she couldn’t say no to the haunted look on Perseus’s face. She stroked the baby’s soft cheek as he suckled heartily, his small hand pressed against her breast._

_Again Perseus was staring at the baby, confusion furrowing his brow. Marcellus returned and handed the tea to Perseus and gave her a glass of cow’s milk, reminding her she had to keep her strength up. The milk was a sweet treat, it had been so long. He was such a kind and thoughtful boy, and she told him as much. “How is Vesta?” She was the crankiest old cow._

_“Ornery as usual.” He supplied with a smile._

_Perseus was making his way up the stairs with the tea when his footfalls stopped. She had slipped using the boy’s name for their cow, but he must have rationalized it away and kept walking._ ::

———

-Yennefer-

As her lawyer, Griffin was allowed in to see her while they processed her bail. He sat at the wide table in the middle of an interview room while a male guard, an older man, brought her in. She was a sight to behold, all bare feet and legs, wrapped in a worn leather jacket over her robe. “Don’t let them see these off, yeah?” The officer unlocked the handcuffs and she rubbed her wrists gingerly. 

“I won’t, thank you Horace.” She gave him a sweet smile and he closed the door after him.

“A friend of yours?” Griffin asked curiously. 

“Just a nice man, his wife and daughter are fans of the show.” He looked so much like Geralt it wasn’t funny. Eskel had similar features, but Geralt was this man’s younger twin. She fought to keep her chin up and proud. “I’m so sorry you had to come here, you must have the worst opinion of me already.” 

“Not necessarily. I’ve seen the video of this alleged assault, and as far as I can tell, you held your ground and took his slander and threats right up until the moment he admitted to plotting to hurt my son. I’m sorry _you_ had to come here.” 

He continued. “In fact, if Geralt wasn’t so stubborn and had called me right away when you all suspected foul play at the pool, some of this might have been avoided.” 

“I wouldn’t let him, it’s my fault. I was naive, I couldn’t believe Cahir would go to such lengths, and when it was quiet for months I foolishly thought he’d moved on. He was in danger because of me.” Guilt washed over her and she lowered her gaze. 

“I can see Geralt has met his match, you are just as stubborn and self sacrificing as he is. Let me reassure you, Mr. Caellach will pay for what he put you both through. I’ve already established a team at my firm to comb through all of his finances, past relationships, and anything else that might be relevant to his creditability and motivations. If the man so much as spit his gum on the sidewalk, I’ll know about it.”

The guard came back through the door and interrupted them, she was being released. They both signed paperwork outlining the conditions of her release. The heavy outer door closed behind them and she shivered, pulling his father’s coat tighter where he’d draped it over her shoulders. They walked the cobblestone path toward the gate, and as the door rolled open she could see Geralt look up from where he was agitatedly pacing by a black town car. 

She ran to him, unbothered by the dig of the stones into her bare feet before launching herself into his waiting arms. He held her tight and sealed his lips over hers, pouring his worry and then relief into their kiss. He framed her face with his hand and she slid down his front, his feet between hers and the gravel. Their lips parted but he kept his head bowed, his forehead against hers while he ran his hands down her arms. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, a hardened criminal now, I’ve done time.” Her eyes were bright with relief. Geralt slid his father’s coat off of her and handed it back to him as he ushered her into the warm car. 

She spoke to Geralt’s father who had moved to the front seat. “Thank you, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” 

He glanced into the mirror as the car pulled away and watched his son pull her into his lap and wrap a warm blanket around her shoulders, tucking her feet carefully. “Think nothing of it Yennefer, that’s what family is for.” Geralt pressed a kiss to her temple at his father’s words. 

“Where’d you get the jacket?” He asked her, running the worn leather collar between his fingers. 

She was burrowed against his chest, the lack of sleep from the night before hitting her now that she was safe. “It’s Trish’s.” She yawned. “She’s in a motorcycle club, we’re supposed to go riding with her next weekend.” 

He was floored, “Is that so?” He didn’t get a response, she was asleep. Just when he thought there was nothing she could do to surprise him, she went ahead and proved him wrong. 

His father chimed in from the front seat, “She charmed a geriatric officer too, you’ve got your hands full son.” 

Geralt wore the surprise on his face for only a moment before tucking her head under his chin, thankful she was unharmed. How many times would he have to nearly lose her before they caught a break? He banded his arms tighter around her shoulders. 

———

:: _Eirene tipped the last spoonful of broth past Daphne’s lips, impressed she’d gotten it all down. She had to give her credit, she was in a lot of pain, but the woman was hanging on. Eirene’s thick braid slid past her shoulder when she leaned to listen to her heartbeat. It wasn’t the best. Daphne blinked, looking ready to sleep again._

_“Is there anything I can do for you? Something you’d like me to read to you, or a letter you’d like me to pen?” She offered._

_“Yes, a letter please. Once I’ve had a nap, I’m terribly tired.”_

_“That’s fine, rest.” She combed a few locks of Daphne’s damp hair from her forehead and gave her dainty hand a squeeze. Her palms were smooth, she had been spared hard work. Eirene’s own used to be just as soft, but looking at them now one would never know. Slightly callused from chopping wood and scrubbing her few pots and pans, they told a different story these days._

_She stood and turned to leave when she startled and put her hand to her chest. “God, you scared me.” Perseus had been watching her, again._

_“Can I talk to you for a moment, outside?”_

_She nodded, pulling the door shut behind them._

_“You’re so kind with her, thank you.” He started. “I’ve been thinking, something is off. Something is familiar to me about Theseus, and it’s occurred to me that he looks just like me. I still don’t remember meeting you, ah, spending time in the tavern, but I think I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I think he might be, is, my son.”_

_She didn’t know what to say to him. Of course he was his son, but not in the way he thought. He would try to help her with the baby, but was it best at this point for him to move on? It was clear to her he’d never remember what they had, and could she share her son with the next woman he attached himself to? Icarus had told her she was one in a long line of women, but they’d all been certain she was the last._

_She laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t trouble yourself, I was mistaken that day on the beach. His father is doing his part, all is well.” He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but couldn’t find the words._

_Marcellus shouted for her from the kitchen, the blacksmith was calling on her. “I’ll see what he wants.” She gestured back up the stairs, “She’s sleeping, but you can sit with her.”_ ::

———

:: _She held a cloth over her mouth and nose, her hand out beckoning him to stop. “Stay back, there’s illness in the house. Daphne’s abed with consumption.”_

_Icarus backed up as she asked. “Why would you torture yourself this way, hasn’t he put you through enough?” He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t stay with Perseus, when he hadn’t stopped offering to help her, to marry her._

_“I am here for Marcellus, and -“_

_He cut her off. “Lies! Marcellus can’t stand the woman, he told me so just two weeks ago. He’s never coming back to you. I’m worried about you Eirene. Say the words back to me, prove to me you understand and you’re not just going to break your heart and mine all over again.”_

_She let out a heavy breath. “He’s never coming back to me. Are you satisfied?” She was losing her patience and her will not to cry. “Thank you for checking on us, but we’re fine. Marcellus has been taking care of Theseus, away from Perseus and I to be sure he doesn’t contract the illness.”_

_He lowered his voice, “That is some divine love you hold in your heart for him. I hope for your sake, that someday you can bequeath it onto someone who will love you in return.” He turned and walked back down the path._ ::

———  
-Yennefer-

She had never been to a court house before, and had no desire to return. It had been two days since Geralt and his father had picked her up at the jail and it had been a whirlwind of statements and depositions as they perfected her defense and countersuit. She and Geralt stood under the marble building’s overhang, away from the crowd of reporters and paparazzi. 

His father was already inside, and they were there for a hearing to determine if the charges against her were legitimate in nature. Geralt paced anxiously while she finished her phone call with her father, he couldn’t help it. 

_“No dad, it’s fine that you aren’t here. Geralt’s father has been so kind, he’s taking care of everything, there’s nothing you could do.”_ She smiled and propped the phone on her shoulder to wave him over and straighten his tie. 

_“The director, he was at my birthday picnic - the hot dog guy? He’s going to testify against his own boss for me. - Yep. - And one of the police officers, a very kind man.”_ Geralt held his hand out to her and motioned that they should go, the hearing would be starting. 

_“I have to go now, but I promise I’ll call you and mom as soon as I know anything. - No, he won’t leave me alone, I promise. - Yeah dad, I really do.”_ Her eyes flashed to Geralt’s. _“Love you too, bye.”_ She hung up the phone, took his hand, and they walked into the court room side by side. 

———

Griffin Thornwald ran the hearing like he owned it. She kept her gaze straight ahead, avoiding Cahir’s nasty looks. Even his high priced attorneys stumbled and frantically tried to gain back their advantage as his father tore apart all their claims, and played the video recording from Geralt’s condo. The footage, and the character witnesses in her favor were nails in the coffin for Cahir.

His lawyers tried to force her into testifying, most likely so they could try to confuse and bully her into phrasing something in a favorable way for them. Griffin stood firm, insisting she was well within her rights to abstain. It took all of an hour for the judge to rule that Cahir and the state had no case. 

As the room began to empty, Geralt’s father handed her a thick envelope and she came face to face with a man she used to care about, who’s face now haunted her nightmares. He opened his mouth to talk, but before he could she shoved the envelope into his hands and walked past him to leave the room, Geralt hot on her heels. 

Cahir flipped the envelope open to reveal the diamond bracelet he’d given her to smooth over one of his aggressive slips. The paperwork behind it outlined an indisputable restraining order and and outline of the civil case she was bringing against him. He looked at the total figure on the last page and paled, he wasn’t even sure he _had_ that much in assets for her to take. 

They walked out onto the marble steps, flashes and microphones waving in front of her face. Geralt, Eskel and their father stood beside her. Jaskier, Sabrina, and a whole group of cast and crew members who had witnessed Cahir’s behavior flanked her from behind. The lovely girl who interviewed them every week was in the crowd of press, poised to feed her questions that would explain the events to the media in a manner that couldn’t be misconstrued. 

Even a few French police officers had come to support her, those that she met at the station who had witnessed the corruption of the few men loyal to Cahir. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but the day could have been one of the worst in her life. Instead, she faced the drama-hungry media bravely, her new family by her side.

———

:: _Daphne passed away on a stormy night, Perseus holding her hand. The pain had been excruciating as her lungs filled with fluid, so Eirene had given her a sleeping drought and her last breath was taken in relative peace._

_Perseus didn’t feel as devastated as he should have. He would miss Daphne’s wit and company, but he couldn’t bring himself to mourn the life with her that he’d lost. His gut was a swirl of emotions - guilt for feeling like he’d betrayed her, relief that she wasn’t suffering anymore, and shameful desire for another woman._

_He spent two weeks watching Eirene care for Daphne and command the household and his crew into efficiency as his scattered mind played tricks on him. She held her son with such tenderness and love in her eyes, he didn’t think he’d seen anything like it in his life. She charmed and entertained Marcellus, quick with a humorous rebuttal or a kind and humble word. He lusted after her in secret, wondering how in the bloody hell he woke hard after dreaming of her when the house was practically in mourning. He fell in love with the girl while the woman he was supposed to be in love with died a painful death._

_He was a bastard._

_They descended the stairs together slowly and he turned to her when they reached the kitchen. “The blacksmith will be happy to have you back, I’ve certainly kept you here long enough.” Thunder rumbled and rolled over the grassy hills surrounding the house._

_She could tell something was wrong with him, other than losing Daphne. She ran her thumb across his cheekbone for a moment before remembering herself and dropping her hand. The small plait she had woven into his thick hair so many times was gone, and she would do well to remember that with it, went his affection for her._

_“It’s alright if you don’t feel as devastated as you think you should. Everyone handles these things differently, and she’d been sick, so you’ve had some time to make peace with it. Don’t punish yourself, however you feel.”_

_She wasn’t expecting his gruff voice to mutter, “Under no god, is what I feel alright.” He turned on his heel and walked out the door into the storm. He ran toward the stables in the pouring rain, and out of her sight._

_He mounted his horse without bothering with his saddle, tearing from the building at a gallop. He led the stallion higher and higher up the massive hill, through the open fields, wind and rain pelting against his face. He reached the peak of the hill where it plateaued, the horse dancing nervously in the booming thunder._

_He threw up his hands in surrender, “What do you want from me! You take one woman from this world and have me lust after another who’s clearly taken!” He didn’t know who he was yelling at, the gods, fate, whatever entity had caused the royal fuck up that was his life._

_“Calm down brother, cease your bellowing.”_

_He whirled so fast he almost toppled from his mount. A beautiful blonde sat atop an ivory stallion even larger than his. She was being pelted with rain the same way he was, but she seemed unbothered by it._

_“Who the fuck are you, and why are you on my land.” It was then that he realized he’d taken nothing with him to defend himself and the horse, not even a dagger in his boot._

_“You’re always so cross when we meet like this. I’ll never know how Eirene puts up with your bitchy moods.”_

_“How do you know her name? Leave her be.”_

_She thought his tone was awful menacing for a solitary unarmed man. “Oh Perseus, really. We have lived this moment before, you really do have the thickest skull. You get all upset when I mention her name,” she mocked his voice, “Don't hurt Eirene, leave Eirene out of this, I love Eirene.”_

_She tossed up her hands the same way he had. “We know! We fucking know you love her, everyone does but you!”_

_He stared at her, wondering how the hell this lunatic woman had found him in the countryside in the middle of a storm. He began plotting ways to escape her as she was clearly crazed._

_“I’m going to do you a massive favor, but let it be known that this is for that sweet girl, not for you.” She shook her head. “My brother, the big, dumb, oaf.”_

_He leaned close, “What did you call -“ Before he could finish, she launched toward him and slapped him across the face. She hit him unexpectedly, and with such momentum and leverage that he slumped from the horse and fell to the muddy ground in a heap._

_She looked down at his unconscious form with satisfaction. “You’re welcome.”_ ::

———

:: _Eirene bid Marcellus a warm goodbye the next morning, expecting to see him soon on his weekly visit into the market. Theseus was once again swaddled against her chest as she walked the dirt path to the village. The boy had returned him to her a little crab, his newest habit pinching his little fingers together around whatever he could reach. She busied herself telling him a vast tale and easing his little pincers from the sensitive skin on her chest, when she heard thundering hooves behind her._

_She moved to the side, intent on letting the rider pass, when she heard him bellow her name. She turned in time to see him slide down the side of the still moving horse and jog toward her. His clothes were wet and he was covered in mud. “Perseus, if you’ve pneumonia it’s your own -“_

_He interrupted her with his lips, his kiss sure and familiar against hers. He kissed her again and again, each embrace lingering longer than the last. He finally pulled back, his thumbs tracing across her soft cheeks, her heart racing. “I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” There was something about his expression, it reminded her of the way he used to look at her before -_

_“Perseus, do you - “_

_“I remember, I remember all of it. Marcellus falling off the ship, the masquerade, your father, the island, the battle on the beach and oh god, the things I said to you.” He shook his head willing the time he’d lost untrue._

_His mind was overloaded with old memories new, and what his mental hiatus had cost him. He cradled the back of the baby’s head through the thin wrap, “You had to do this all alone. How could you forgive me for not being there.”_

_“I had help, Marcellus and Icarus. But yes, I was alone when he was born.” Her words did nothing to ease the guilt stricken expression that had taken over his face._

_“Perseus.” She cupped his chin and caressed her thumb across the lips she had missed so dearly. “You asked me once if I wanted to you find me, and I said yes. Whether it’s in this lifetime or the next, always yes.”_

_He rested his forehead against hers, his hand warm on the baby’s back. “There aren’t words for how much I love you Eirene, both of you - oh!” They looked down and sure enough, wide eyes and a little hand had given him a pinch. She reached into the wrap and fished him out, setting him into Perseus’s big arms._

_“Theseus, this is your papa. He’s a bit slow, but he found us.” He didn’t have a retort for her playful dig, he was mesmerized with his son. He’d seen her baby numerous times, but never before knowing full well that he belonged to him. It was an emotion, a pull from his gut that he’d never forget._

_“He’s so small, he’s perfect.” Theseus wrapped his little hand around Perseus’s finger, so large in comparison. A few tears slid down her cheeks and she ignored them, knowing they were happy tears, and that the same kind disappeared into the stubble on his cheeks._

_“He’s the right size for his age. He’s a wonderful baby, he really only cries when he needs a change or he’s hungry.” The baby blew little bubbles and reached a chubby hand to tug a strand of her long hair. Her heart was so full, seeing him in awe of their baby. “He takes after his father, he likes to pull my hair and he’s quite fond of breasts.”_

_That one broke through his reverie and he pulled her tight to his chest with his free arm, his deep laughter music to her ears._ ::

———

-Geralt-

“Cut! That looks good, I just want to get another take when the sun is a bit brighter in the sky. Geralt will be looking into the sun and it’ll make him appear all the more apologetic. So let’s break for a half an hour and run it again, stay muddy Geralt.” The sound crew broke from their poses and set aside their equipment at Jaskier’s direction. 

The little boy they were filming with was such a good baby, but he grew bored of Geralt’s chin and began whining. He bounced at the knee a bit and looked around the perimeter of the shooting area. “Do you see Trevor’s mother anywhere?”

Yennefer leaned close to his free shoulder, “Nope, but I do see one sexy man holding a cute baby.” She tipped his chin and nudged her lips against his. His arm tightened around her waist and he chased her warm skin when she tried to pull away. No one around them batted an eye. Since they made their relationship public, Jaskier had lamented that their _PDA_ was intended to punish them all for their participation in the betting pool, but in actuality, they just couldn’t help themselves. 

Little Trevor seized the opportunity and twisted in Geralt’s arms. Their lips parted and he handed her the whimpering boy, a strand of her hair already wound in his small fist. He was content to slide right back in the wrap she wore, her warm skin calming his fit. Geralt shook his head, “You remind me of Sleeping Beauty.” 

She raised an incredulous brow. “I didn’t know you were versed in the princess fairy tales.” She pried the small fingers from her hair and rubbed circles on Trevor’s back. 

He didn’t fall for her bait. “That one is my mother’s favorite, she read it to me incessantly as a bed time story. All the woodland creatures come to listen to Aurora sing, and that’s exactly what happens around you. Delilah, Trevor, you’re a baby magnet. Not to mention Kosmos, and now that I think of it, the bird’s nest outside the bedroom window is on your side of the bed. We should count ourselves lucky the condo isn’t overrun with talking field mice and fluffy bunnies.” 

She laughed, “You know very well I’m no princess, and Kosmos loves you. He would choose you over me any day, I promise.” 

Rather than argue it he took her hand and they made their way toward the row of tents that the crew had set up along the tree line. She kept a look out for the boy’s mother and he rifled through one of the coolers to get them something to eat. He returned with a juicy red apple, and offered it to her with a wicked smile. She tsked at his bad humor and took the fruit with a grin, “That’s a different princess, it doesn’t count.” 

Before he could snark back, a young man they didn’t recognize approached her with a thick envelope. “Yennefer Cecelia Giancardi?” He asked. She nodded and he handed her the envelope, turning and walking away without a word. Philippa and Istredd breezed past them to get something to eat.

Geralt opened the envelope for her while she ate the sweet fruit and bounced the little boy on her chest. He flipped through the pages quickly, the muscle in his jaw ticking in irritation. Philippa asked if she could hold the baby and Yennefer placed him in her arms. She turned back to him, “Geralt, what does it say?” 

He held up a packet she recognized, a copy of her contract to film for Atlantis. Newly added was the word _VOID_ stamped in red letters across her name. “It says you’re fired.” Istredd had the presence of mind to fetch her a folding chair, while Geralt stormed off to interrogate Jaskier about the contents of the letter. 

Yennefer sat in shock, her mind reeling. Istredd patted her on the shoulder, “It’s got to be that asshole Cahir, I’m sure they’ll overturn it. The show would be nothing without you.” She managed a half a smile in return. 

Trevor’s fussing turned into tears and Philppa tried in vein to console him, bouncing him dramatically in her arms. Her form of comfort for Yennefer was a bit more passive aggressive, “Geralt will fix it for you. It must be wonderful to have a knight in shining armor to handle all of your problems for you. Sign me up for one of those!” 

Yennefer opened her mouth to protest, but Philippa was right. She relied on him for so much, it really wasn’t fair of her. 

———

-Yennefer-

She paced back and fourth in her trailer, finished shooting for the night. Kosmos was resting in her bed, enjoying the new heated blanket she bought him. She felt terrible every time she looked at him and saw his cast, but he was recovering well and would be running again soon. 

She thought her bad luck was over, that Cahir’s influence over her life was done. Yet again, she found herself in a predicament and Geralt was doing his best to correct it for her. He’d talked with Jaskier and was on his way back from talking to his father. 

She was right, Philippa had cut right into a vein of her insecurity and made her guilt even worse. Since he’d started dating her, Geralt had to ask his father for legal help, stood by her during a hearing and in front of the press, and ruined his relationship with one of his bosses. He cleaned up her trashed apartment, rushed his dog to the veterinarian with an injury, and jumped into a pool to literally save her life. 

He bustled through the door of her trailer, the envelope of her paperwork still in his hand. She whirled and he hurriedly filled her in, “Alright, I just got off the phone with my father and -“ 

She stopped him. “Wait, this is wrong. You shouldn’t be dealing with this.” 

He was confused. “What do you mean?’

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be involved in my problems, I need to handle this myself.”

“Is everything aright? You feel okay?”

“I’d have to be sick to be responsible for my own shit.” She could feel herself falling apart, but she couldn’t stop the cascade. “Stop trying to fix it. Just, stop Geralt.” She sat down heavily at her table.

He couldn’t figure out what had changed. “You’re right, I was being heavy handed. I’ll set up a meeting for you - “

She put her head in her hands. “Just fucking quit! Leave me alone.” 

He was stunned. He tossed her papers on the table, and she looked up just in time to see him slam the door behind him. 

She let him off the hook, she unburdened him, and she still felt like shit. She wanted to cry, but there were simply no tears left. She climbed onto the bed and curled herself around the dog. Hurting him made her heart hurt.

Her eyes had just closed when he marched back into her trailer, his jaw set and his voice firm. “Hear me out for a minute.” She blinked her eyes awake and sat up. 

“You’re allowed to have help. It doesn’t mean you’re not acting like an adult, no one can do _everything_ on their own.” He pulled in a deep breath, and she fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “When he pulls that shit on you, he’s pulling it on me too. Christ, when he almost killed you, I wanted to die right there with you on that tile, I -“

She stood up when he couldn’t finish. 

“You can’t -,” he swallowed, “I won’t just stand by and watch you get hurt. I love you, and when you hurt, I hurt.” She had never seen him look so vulnerable. 

“What did you say?” She barely spoke.

“We can handle this, and whatever else comes, _together_.”

“Before the hurting part.” Her fingertips worried the hem of his shirt. 

“You heard me Yen.” He tipped her chin gently so he could read her expression. 

“I love you, too. So much.” Her voice was soft but sure, and he leaned his lips to hers in a delicate, barely there kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck when his went to her sides. “I shouldn’t have said those things, but I’ve caused you so much grief, I feel guilty. How can I make it up to you?” 

“You’ll get your share of the grief when you meet my mother.” 

She shook her head, “No way, you’ve met mine, remember?”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Oh god, no.” She buried her face in his shirt and he grinned.

———

Yennefer sat in front of the production company board, Jaskier and Geralt on either side of her. She was face to face with Cahir, the four other members of the board flanking him at a long table. They were temporarily violating the restraining order, but it was necessary. Initially Geralt wanted to storm into the company’s offices and make demands, but they cooled off and scheduled the meeting _together_. 

Yennefer began, “You should all know that I’ve filed a law suit against Mr. Caellach for harassment. In addition, there is a pending criminal investigation underway by the French authorities alleging his involvement in the tampering of lighting equipment that nearly took the life of a member of the cast.” 

Cahir retorted quickly, “Allegations - nothing has been determined in either of those matters. Irrelevant.” He produced a segment of her contract that supported his claim, her suit couldn’t be held against him until settled if there were no other complainants. 

They took another approach. Jaskier cleared his throat, enlightening them on how toxic Cahir’s presence on set was, and how his behavior began far before Yennefer appeared on the acting scene. He asked them to remove Cahir from the project until the legal system removed him from this job entirely. 

Cahir shifted the blame. “He’s about to lose his project, and grasping at straws. The moment those two began fucking, pardon my french, his word became unreliable. The show is doing well because I have kept them all in line.” 

For as lighthearted and goofy Jaskier was, he jumped on that accusation. “He’s correct when he insinuates I’m desperate to keep the project going, successful. It’s my livelihood right now, and my wife’s. I will do whatever it takes, and make whatever decisions are necessary to keep it afloat and profitable. I have the same set of goals as the company, and they do not include stalking, assaulting, and attempting to murder an ex-girlfriend because she moved on.” 

Two of the board members were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and another looked at Yennefer with obvious sympathy. It was the last, a woman sitting to his right who never lost her judgmental expression. 

Cahir tried to ignore Jaskier’s statement and move past it. “Her contract has been dissolved, you would need a unanimous vote to reinstate her employment with us, and you won’t get it. The two of _you_ are on thin ice, so watch yourselves going forward. Yennefer’s replacement will arrive on set tomorrow.” 

“Cut the games, or I’m out too.” Geralt had kept quiet until he could no longer. The man at the end of the table gasped. 

“Breach of contract Thornwald, your father is a lawyer you should know that.” The man who gasped put his head in his hands when Cahir revealed his father’s profession.

Geralt laid out the situation for them clearly. “If you want to lose millions of dollars in production and screen time, be my guest. He’ll bury you in motions for years and you’ll have nothing to air while it’s in litigation. When it’s finally over and there’s no budget left for shooting, you can try and resurrect the show without either of us. Congratulations, you bullied these four people out of their retirement funds.” He stood up to leave and Yennefer gathered the evidence and paperwork they brought into her bag. 

The man on the end had had enough. “You’re out Caellach. No severance, security will walk you out.” Two more votes to oust him followed suit, and even the woman who had appeared to be his ally favored greed over collusion. 

“Miss Giancardi, you have our sincere apologies for what you’ve endured. You’re fully reinstated of course, and we will cooperate fully with the civil and criminal investigations. We’d be grateful if you stayed on with the project, and we’d like to negotiate something more for you in light of all of this, and due to the talent you’ve leant the show.”

Cahir lost his shit. He lunged across the table toward her, muttering about how he wished that beam had killed the little Italian _slut_. Jaskier yanked Yennefer out of the way and he was met, instead, with the broad chest of a _very_ angry Geralt. 

The last of the board members gave Geralt a nod and filed out of the room. They wouldn’t be saying anything to anyone. 

Jaskier pulled Yennefer halfway to the door before she realized what he was doing and resisted. He surprised her, looping his arm around her middle and hauling her outside. 

Cahir scrambled backwards over the table, looking to put something big and heavy between him and Geralt’s advancing form. He cornered the man patiently, rolling up his sleeves as he went. His scowl morphed into a snarling grin when Cahir’s back bumped into the wall. 

Outside the room, Yennefer peeled his arm away, “Jaskier, what the _fuck_!”

“Let’s give him a few minutes, he’s gotta let some of that rage out. Let’s go get some ice.” He suggested. 

“Ice, for what?”

“His fists.”

———  
London  
Two Months Later  
-Geralt-

Her fist made solid contact with Geralt’s glove and he feigned to miss her next punch. Her feet were light on the mat and she circled around him, landing a quick uppercut before her right hook slammed home in his glove. 

“Good job Yenna!” Eskel called from the other side of the mat. "Let’s work with short swords next.”

Geralt slipped off the practice gloves and ran his fingers down her side. “He’s right, you did good sweetheart. Those pious Saxons have no chance against your Viking horde.” 

She leaned into his chest, “I’ve read the first script, this queen is one badass bitch. Heads will roll. Literally.” He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. He held the ropes so she could slip down from the boxing ring, they were the last three people left in the exclusive gym. 

Filming for Atlantis was on hiatus while production shifted to the wilderness of Poland for the better part of season three. Geralt and his agent were in talks for a major movie role, the leading man in an iconic, comic book driven film. Everything about the negotiations was so hush-hush that he hadn’t even told Yennefer what the role was. To her credit, she hadn’t asked, only supported him.

She had just solidified her role as a Viking queen on another popular cable series, her character expected to make appearances for about half a season. The timing of the role lined up perfectly with their break from Atlantis, and as soon as she saw the war paint and the costume, she was sold. 

Kosmos followed them down to the combat training area, his cast removed and his natural gait returning. It was a good thing, because their fluffy little baby had grown into a small bear. Kosmos clung to Geralt’s heels as he loaded massive disc weights onto a thick steel bar. He was already big, but he need to add even more muscle mass to his frame for the role he was after. 

Eskel ran Yennefer through the basics of short swords and hatchets, setting her up to spar with him using light replica weapons he’d brought with him. He taught her some basic lunges, parries and strikes that would prepare her for working with another fight choreographer. She began to enjoy it, prompting even Eskel to break a sweat. 

Geralt laid his back on the low bench, lifted the laden bar into his lap raised and lowered his hips in time with measured breaths. He did three thrusting sets and held the pose, meant to strengthen abs, thighs and glutes, before letting the bar clang back into the metal frame. 

Kosmos barked at the unexpected loud noise, but wasn’t bothered enough to get up, seeing both of his humans were not in distress. “Sorry bud, we gotta finish here. These are the reps that put mama in a good mood.” He spoke none too quietly, a grin on his face.

Eskel balked, “Come on brother,” he parried, “I don’t need to be within earshot of - _ugh_!” Her short practice sword made light contact with his gut, Geralt’s distraction giving her a window of opportunity. She wore a proud smile.

“Good one sis, a foot lower and -“, a woman’s voice cut him short. 

“And she’d have to deal with me.” Philippa strode across the large room like she owned it. Even though her character was just written off of Atlantis, she found a convenient way to stay involved with the production. She was after her night in shining armor, and had nabbed herself the next best man. 

Yennefer raised her hands in mock surrender, thanking Eskel for the lesson before Philippa descended on him and marked her territory. It became apparent that he’d forgotten their dinner plans, and the couple cleared out without so much as a _Hi, sorry for stealing him_ from Philippa. 

She snapped a photo of Geralt straining and groaning under a heavy bar, Kosmos with his tongue out and happy panting behind him. “I’m captioning that, _I added a few extra weights, don’t tell him._ ” She smiled to herself posting the photo to her Instagram and queuing some music on her phone for them. 

She pulled a resistance band from the wall and began cool down stretching. He was just glad she felt comfortable to post anything again, the constant threat of retribution had caused her months of worry and anxiety about any little thing she might want to post. She bent low to wrap her hands around her toes and he whistled, “ _That’s_ the post-able photo, sexy.” 

She laid facing the ceiling and arched her back, her graceful form taunting him with how flexible she was. He had moved to incline sit-ups against the wall, the upper half of his body moving 180 degrees for more effective resistance. When he extended his torso to the floor his shirt bunched and she stared at his chest, damp with sweat and his abdominals straining under the weight. “No one cares about us, they want to see the dog. I don’t blame them, he’s more photogenic than we are, even though _one_ of us has modeled before.” 

“Glasses, I modeled eyewear, not flaunting my package in the latest and greatest tightie whities,” he reminded her. She had moved to lean against a piece of heavy equipment, stretching her arms and his shorts at the same time, the tops of her breasts perched snugly in her sports bra as she bent low. 

“You’re right, no one will ever sign you on an underwear contract. The goal is to get people to buy them, not make every man that sees the ad feel small and insecure.” She met his gaze hungrily and the free weights he was using slid to the floor. He still needed to perform a set of dead lifts and all his stretching before he could call it a night. 

She brought him his water bottle and pet Kosmos, encouraging Geralt to drink when she changed the music over to his phone. “I’m going home to shower. Skip the cardio and don’t wear yourself out.” He grabbed for her but she slipped away just ahead of his fingertips. _Side to Side_ played from his phone as she walked to the door, an exaggerated sway in her hips as she went. She turned back with a salacious smile, “See you at home, stud.” and the door closed behind her. 

His erection was visible under his shorts. He turned to the dog, innocently watching him suffer. “She will be the death of me.” _Woof!_

———  
-Geralt-

He pulled the garage door shut behind him, Kosmos bounding through the kitchen in search of Yennefer no doubt. He showered at the gym and let the wind dry his hair on the way home. “Geralt!” She called him from upstairs and he tossed down the pile of mail he’d brought in like it was on fire. He dumped his duffel bag and hustled down the hallway. 

He gripped the banister at the base of the stairs and froze. White candles flickered and painted a warm glow up the stairwell. She was perched on the railing above, her leg bent in a provocative pose, a sassy grin on her face. She wore white lingerie he’d never seen on her before. The bra was nearly transparent, made of white boning and lace. The matching panties were tiny, the white fabric flattering the natural glow of her golden skin. 

He met her gaze and licked his lips. She bit hers. He tore up the stairs. She vaulted off the railing with a squeal, running down the hall to their bedroom. He gave chase, and when he burst through the door she sat on the bed waiting, two of his neckties in her hands. 

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. She looped the ties around the back of his neck and pulled him close, her lips brushing across his. “You will let me?”

He smirked, “Have I ever told you no?”

She hummed in approval, bypassing his lips and running her teeth over his earlobe. “Strip, my stallion.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, he’d created a monster. A beautiful one he would never be able to resist. 

He let her lead him around the side of the bed, articles of his clothing flying off as he went. She climbed up on the high mattress and he followed suit, running his hands over her body while he still had use of them. She encouraged him to lay back, his cock already hard and proudly waiting for her attention. 

She tied his right hand low on their headboard, threading the narrow silk between the intricate damask pattern of the white wooden carvings. She feathered a kiss to his palm before securing his left. She’d tied perfect bows around his wrists. He smiled, god he fucking loved her.

She kissed him on the cheek, purposefully avoiding his lips and shimmied the lacy white panties off, haphazardly tossing them over his erection. She slid her leg across his chest and when she leaned forward over his face he ran his broad tongue along her slit. Her bra went sailing over the side of the bed and she gripped the headboard with low moan when he found her clit, flicking his tongue and sucking on the sensitive little bud. 

He lapped at her core until she sighed his name, lowering her hips and pushing his tongue deeper against her heated flesh. She was impossibly wet, the thrill of her little game and his mouth driving her closer to the edge. He wished he could see her face, but her head was tipped back, sensual whimpers and gasps of pleasure on her lips. Though the view he had wasn’t bad, the muscles in her abdomen quivering when his nose nudged against her clit and the undersides of her full breasts swaying slightly as she began to subtly rock against him. 

“ _Oh god, yes_ ,” her voice began as a whisper and ended in a tortured sounding cry. Her thighs began to tremble on either side of his head, and he went to help her but the ties on his wrists stopped him. She released the headboard with one hand, pinching her nipple and teasing herself, the view sending another wave of desire down to his groin. He let out a deep groan and the vibrations sent her reeling. 

“ _So good, you’re so good to me baby,_ ”, she mumbled desperately. He sped up his tongue, driving deep until she pitched forward wailing his name. Her fingers tightened around the curling wood and she rolled her hips over his mouth until her legs weakened and she slid down his chin. 

Still panting, she crawled down his torso and tossed the panties aside, sinking down on his erection with little preamble. She cried out when she’d taken him to the hilt, her body still humming and sensitive from climax. She ran her hands over his chest as her hips rocked against his, her cheeks rosy and her chest flushed with exertion. 

He watched her from behind dark eyes, his face shiny with her slick and his jaw set in determination as he began thrusting his hips up to meet her. He longed to tangle his hand in her dancing curls or cup her breasts, but she had asked for the reins and he’d gladly handed them over to her. He bent his knees and braced his feet, his thrusts coming faster and more forceful. 

“ _Ohhhhh_ ,” she breathed. She brought her hand to brush against her clit and she leaned forward over his chest, now slick with fine sweat. She brought her lips to his for a breathless kiss, the first one she’d given him and his movement stuttered to a slow roll as their tongues slid messily together. 

He felt her hand resume quick circles over her clit and he picked up his pace again. She clung to him, meeting his hips thrust for thrust. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she pleaded. He reassured her he wouldn’t, even though he wasn’t sure she comprehended. Her free hand traced along the muscular lines of his shoulders and arms, spread eagle at her request, his drive to please her taking precedence over anything else. 

She was close, her pants disappearing as she forgot to breathe. “Breathe baby, so fucking beautiful.” He ground his teeth, he was teetering over the edge himself. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck and dragged her pelvis against his. She whimpered with each jerk of his hips, her body trembling while she tightened around him. 

The last few snaps of his hips buried him deep, his frantic grunt giving way to a blissful groan. His legs sank back to the bed, hers straightening from where they’d been folded around him. She pulled away slightly to lean and yank the tie from his arms, peppering kisses along his skin as she went. 

She lay on top of him, spent, and unwilling to part so soon. With the use of his hands restored he pushed a few damp tendrils of dark hair from her face and laid his heavy arms over her back. She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest. “I love you.” 

He stretched to press his lips to the crown of her hair. “I love you so much.” It took him a minute, but he finally realized why it was so quiet. “Where’s the dog?” 

He felt her smile.

———

-On Set Interview with the Cast of Atlantis-

Interviewer: “Thank you both so much for being here, I’ve missed you, but I know the last few months have been challenging for a variety of reasons. I have to give you praise, season two of Atlantis didn’t suffer a bit for it, you’re both true professionals.” 

Yennefer and Geralt just nodded, their hands intertwined on her lap. 

I: “You’re looking pretty buff Geralt, and this new hair cut! Can we assume Perseus will rumble with the gods again in season three?”

Geralt: “As you know we haven’t yet begun filming it, but it’s probably safe to say he and Eirene haven’t seen the last of the divine world and it’s foes. Ah, right now, all he’s tangling with is dirty nappies. He’s got a lot of making up to do in that department. As for the hair cut, Perseus is getting older, so gone are those pretty boy locks.”

I: “Well, I speak for most of the females and some of the guys on the planet when I say, it looks _good_ on you.” He blushed, and Yennefer laughed. “Yennefer, I heard you landed a recurring role on yet another wildly successful period drama, congratulations! Can you tell us anything about your character?”

Yennefer: “Thank you! Um yeah, I’m so excited! She is a queen, and a badass one for sure. I’ll go from Eirene suffering in relative silence to, well, lobbing off heads. I can’t wait.”

I: “That is awesome, I cannot wait to see you in action! You both look so fit and toned, I’m sure you’ve been spending a lot of time in the gym. What are your favorite exercises you can recommend for those looking to get in shape?”

Y: “I’m partial to resistance bands, yoga, and free weights. Geralt is a lifting machine, and boxing.” He nodded to support her answer. 

I: “No cardio for either of you?”

Yennefer’s face flamed, and Geralt smirked. 

G: “We -“

Y: “ - run. Together, a lot.” 

G: “Night and day.” Yennefer raised her eyebrow as if to remind him her parents were likely watching. 

I: The interviewer held back her laugher with a knowing smile. “I’ve got a note here to remind you to mention a few charitable donations?”

Y: “Oh yes! Many people know I had some difficulties with an ex, and we ended up winning a law suit that resulted in a significant settlement. I wanted to let everyone know we’re donating every penny, it’ll be split between a wonderful charity that helps families affected by childhood cancers and our favorite animal rescues. I’ll tweet their names and how you can donate as well if you fancy doing some good.” She smiled sweetly. 

They wrapped up the interview and the girl leaned close to Yennefer. “So, how much did you get?” Geralt busied himself folding up the chairs for her. 

“Geralt’s father is an amazing litigator. Fifteen million.” Yennefer whispered.

“Are you serious, and you donated it _all_?”

“We paid the attorneys and legal staff who did all the hard work, but after that, yes. It’s blood money, I don’t want anything to do with it.” 

“Word coming through the grapevine is that he got some plastic surgery, a nose job and cheek implants.” 

Yennefer shrugged, and Geralt put his hand on her waist. “How nice for him. I hope it wasn’t the result of some unfortunate accident. I’d hate to think he went through any kind of pain, wouldn’t you agree Geralt?”

He nodded. “Sounds like he was just making some cosmetic improvements to me. I bet that’s all it was.” He unconsciously flexed his fist as the interviewer’s eyes went wide and she took in their innocent looking smiles. 

———  
Somewhere in the German forest  
-Geralt-

Her screams echoed through the dense forest as she plummeted down the mountain. The dark haired woman was next, her boots teetering over the edge of the wooden platform. She broke her kiss with the bigger of the two men, gesturing at the nylon rope that banded across his shoulders. He reassured her, and after another brief embrace, she leapt from the tower. Unlike the woman before her, she remained silent as the foliage flew by her at alarming speeds. 

“Can we tell them my harness broke and they refunded my money?” Jaskier wanted to pace, but the narrow platform didn’t allow him to do anything but cower behind Geralt’s back. 

“What are you scared of? Zip lining is safe enough, you let your wife and the mother of your child fly down there without a second thought.” Geralt shook his head, Jaskier’s fear was sudden and poorly timed. “I watched Yen go, what does that tell you about my confidence in their set up.” 

Jaskier nodded. “True, you’d rather sit on a scorpion before she suffered from a hangnail. But still, I’m thinking it’s not worth it. I mean worst case I die a gruesome death. Brina would remarry, and another man would raise Del. And, I don’t know if you noticed, but Sabrina is fucking gorgeous and you know he’s going to be hotter than me.” Geralt grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, the instructor behind them unable to hold back his laugh. 

“Jaskier, what is it going to take to get you down this mountain. I’ve got very important plans with Yen, I’m taking her to the castle, you remember the surprise dinner I told you about? If we don’t hurry up the women will take off without us for pedicures and I’ll be swatting mosquitos off your face until the sun goes down.”

“Hey, I was going to ask, can we get in on your castle plans, because -“ Jaskier stopped when Geralt’s curse sent a flock of birds flapping for the sky.

In the end, he got Jaskier down the mountain. Strapped to his back and clinging to him like a frightened child. Both women burst out laughing when the lines pulled taunt and they could make out Geralt’s irritated expression. Jaskier’s boots hit the lower platform and he let out a mighty whoop, “Woo! That was awesome, let’s run it again!” 

Yennefer soothed the violence from Geralt’s jaw with a soft touch. She spoke quietly against his ear. “I was getting worried about you. I’ll need to check you over very thoroughly tonight in our room, to make sure you’re safe and uninjured.” 

“Mmmmmm,” he slid his hands around her waist. “Now that you say that, I think I may have pulled a muscle that needs your attention.” 

“Oh really,” she crooned back, “in your…foot…l bet.” 

He danced a few kisses along her jaw, “Damn foot is always acting up when you’re around. I can’t figure it out -“

Jaskier smacked him on the back, “She can suck your feet later man, let’s do that _again_!”

Yennefer pulled back so she could read his expression with a smile, “And he’s your _best_ friend.”

“Don’t remind me.” He hid his face back on her shoulder. 

———

“This isn’t fair you know.” Her heels clicked on the stone floor, her arm tucked securely against the sleeve of his dinner jacket. A weekend trip to Germany for his twenty-eighth birthday had turned into a private dinner in one of her favorite places in the world. She loved architecture, evident from their excursions in France on his motorcycle, and Neuschwanstein was about as good as it got. 

“How so?” They walked out onto a small balcony, outfitted with only a flickering candelabra and an intimate table for two. She pulled the lacy wrap around her bare arms and took in the view, an awestruck look on her face. Geralt handed his dinner jacket to their host, even though there was a chill in the spring air. 

“It’s _your_ birthday, and you’ve brought me to “December” on the calendar in my trailer. I should be doing something grand and romantic for _you_.” She leaned over the rail, anxious to inspect every level of the castle and the surrounding grounds below. As always, she looked breathtaking, the beaded black evening gown clinging to her curves. Her curls were piled and twisted atop her head, the graceful lines of her neck and bare shoulders flushed with excitement. 

His suit fit just fine, but he loosened his necktie anyway, he wasn’t breathing quite right. An attendant filled their wine glasses and disappeared tactfully. He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t want anything for my birthday, but I figured out what I want.” 

“It’ll arrive after your birthday, but yes! Tell me what it is, I’ll order it right now.” She turned to rustle in her clutch for her phone. When she straightened, he was on one knee, next to her. Her phone slipped onto the tablecloth and he took her hand. She wasn’t breathing, in fact, she looked terrified. 

_Fucking fuck._ It was too soon, they’d only been dating a year, she was going to say no. Still, he foraged ahead, determined to see it through.

“Yen,” he ran his thumb across her knuckles nervously, “I love you. I think I first realized it when I caught you trying to stuff all five of Kosmos’s brothers and sisters into your purse and take them home.” She let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “I knew I didn’t want to live without you that day at the pool.” He swallowed hard and she squeezed his hand. 

“And every moment since then, I’ve just been hoping and praying you wouldn’t get sick of me before I could give you this.” He pulled out a small black jewelry box from his pants pocket, opening it to reveal a stunning diamond ring. The main stone was large and round, bands of smaller diamonds twisting around it’s base and crossing over the delicate band. 

“Yen, will you marry -“ She interrupted him with her answer, sliding from her chair and kneeling on the sone with him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and met his lips for a passionate kiss. They parted but their arms remained around one another in a tight embrace. He laid a kiss on her bare shoulder and helped her stand, taking her hand and slipping the ring on her finger. 

She stared at it on her hand over his shoulder for a moment, happy tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” 

“ _You’re_ beautiful.” He nudged his nose to hers in an eskimo kiss. 

“Wait - what did you want for your birthday?”

He chuckled, “For you to be my wife and spend the rest of our lives together.” 

She smiled, “I’ll have to see if Amazon has that in stock.” 

———

-Yennefer-

A little songbird sat on their balcony, chirping away in the morning sun, oblivious to what was happening inside the glass doors behind it. He cradled her head, her soft obsidian curls overflowing onto the ivory pillow below. They lay facing each other, her leg curled over his hip and his tanned arm a stark contrast to the creamy skin of her back.

She clung to him, soft whimpers flowing from her lips as he murmured his love against the shell of her ear, his thrusts measured and slow. He kissed her everywhere he could reach, her jaw, her cheek, brushing against her long lashes as he found her delicate brow. 

She wouldn’t last much longer against his sweet torture and she licked her lips, shifting her hips a bit to deepen his strokes. He hummed in approval, her hand sliding between his shoulder blades, fingertips searching for purchase. She froze, her lashes fluttering shut while she pulled in quick pants of air. 

He kept up his deep, infuriatingly slow pace and she bowed her head into his shoulder, quivering and moaning half formed words and phrases against his heated skin. A soft giggle snuck past her lips and she exhaled deeply, her breath unsteady.

He pulled her tight against his chest, his hand leaving her hair and reaching between her hips. She gasped and he thrust with more force, her surprised ‘ _oh_ ’ nearly drowned out when he growled ‘ _wife_ ’ into the hollow of her throat. 

She pressed her lips to his before he grunted his release, the quick motions of his hand bringing her with him a second time. They held each other, panting and shaky, her head tucked under his chin. 

“Not yet.” She whispered, his answering _hmmmm_ rumbling against her temple. “I’m not a wife yet. I could still turn and run for the hills.” Her words came even as she spun his ring around her finger where her hand curled against his chest. 

She could almost hear his smile above her. “I’d hunt you down, find you.” 

“So you _have_ been listening to Eirene.” 

“That beautiful little siren is wise beyond her years.” There was a knock at the door. “That’s breakfast love, I’ll get it.” He pulled his boxers from the remnants of his suit strewn across the floor and threw a robe over his shoulders, closing the door behind him to give her privacy. 

She was glad he’d gotten up, she felt like she could lay in that bed for a century with him. They’d returned from the castle the prior evening, torn the clothes off of each other and made love until she couldn’t walk. He’d carried her back to the bed and she had never slept so deeply. 

She sat up hesitantly, sliding her feet to the plush carpet. All that was missing was her fur baby, but she knew he was safe and happy with his auntie Cerys, a picture of him snuggled in her bed arriving on her phone that morning. Geralt opened the doors back up between the rooms and fed her a few raspberries from one of the trays before helping her stand. 

“You alright?” He rubbed her back as she leaned against him. 

“Perfectly fine, a bit stiff and a lot lazy.” He kissed her temple and told her what he’d ordered and was waiting for her. 

“There’s sausage in there too but I think you’ve had enough of that for a while.” He smirked. 

“Never.” She winked, giving his rear a light pinch. She wandered to make a plate and bring it back to the bed while he mentioned getting in the shower. There were two carts, and the lid hadn’t been lifted off of one of the trays. She dropped an entire handful of grapes to the floor and gasped when she saw what was underneath it. 

Her books, two of her small paintings and her entire sketch pad laid on the tray. Restored, as though they’d never been soaked and ripped in a fit of rage. Her worn copy of “Pride and Prejudice,” complete with Pavetta’s note about her Mr. Darcy looked as though it had never seen a drop of rain. 

Strong hands settled on her waist from behind when she opened her sketchbook, and she began to cry when she saw her drawing from so many months ago. Jaskier’s innocent face, Sabrina’s timeless beauty, and in the center, Geralt’s dashingly handsome portrait. 

“I couldn’t stand you,” she traced her thumb over his smirking mouth on the page, “but at the same time, I wanted to spend every moment by your side.” 

“Now you get to do exactly that.” 

She smiled through her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This was a long one, you made it! Maybe you should comment so I know you made it and not to send a search party. :D hehe
> 
> You may or may not guess what role I might be alluding to Geralt reading for. Kosmos and Geralt’s selfie in the gym is stolen from Henry and Kal. So is modeling glasses. So is the “cardio” insinuation during the interview.  
> Germany is all made up except obv the castle exists and is epic. No clue about art restoration but with enough money it's got to be possible lol


	10. I Get To Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blending two families is easy right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just a note everyone, filming for Atlantis is on hiatus for this chapter as mentioned in the last update (it spans 8-10 months), but next chapter the customary split story format will return with Season 3 of the show. :D  
> I Get To Love You - Ruelle

———  
-Eist-  
-Flashback-

He looked up from his phone and a strong knock sounded on the thick oak door of his office. “Come in.” His voice was strong, but a part of his heart broke. Calanthe had texted him from downstairs, and he knew this day had been coming. Geralt came through the door and closed it behind him. To his credit, the boy looked nervous. _Good_.

Eist stood from behind his desk and shook Geralt’s offered hand. “Nice to see you Geralt, what brings you by?” He knew, but he was certainly going to make him work for it.

Geralt cleared his throat and Eist smirked inwardly, he remembered the terror of this moment with Calanthe’s father. “I want to ask Yennefer to marry me, and I’d like your blessing to do so.” He said his peace all on the same breath and waited for her father’s response. 

“Why.” Eist deadpanned.

He could tell Geralt wasn’t expecting that. “I love her, I – “

Eist held up his hand and cut him off. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” Geralt’s shoulders relaxed. “You’ve already proven to me that you’ll put her first and take care of her. Don’t ever tell her I said that, but that’s what I expect.” He paused. “She loves you, I saw it on her face in that hospital room months ago, and I had a feeling we would be in this position at some point.” 

Geralt nodded his agreement. Neither man wanted to remember the feeling of almost losing her. 

“As you have no doubt noticed, Yennefer’s mother is a dynamic person, and Yenna grew up catering to her…vibrant…personality. Calanthe, and even Pavetta have been the center of attention for years. Her mother and I have every faith that you’ll finally allow Yenna to relax into her own _vibrant_ self. Mark my words, it’s there, buried. She is her mother’s daughter.” 

Geralt smiled. “I’ve seen it a few times, I can handle it.” 

It was Eist’s turn to smirk, _ah, young love and ignorance_ , he thought. They spoke a while longer and Geralt opened the door to leave, having gotten what he came for. “Oh, and Thornwald?” Geralt turned back. 

“Hurt her and I’ll come after you.”

———  
-Yennefer-  
-Present-

“How bad is it?” She rolled onto her side, hiding her face from the bright morning light streaming in the large windows. 

Geralt looped his tie around itself and peered down at their backyard. It was being outfitted to host Calanthe’s bridal shower that afternoon. Technically it was a shower for Yennefer, but the bride had begged to omit the traditional formality. She had insisted they were already wholly blessed and they didn’t need to create such a fuss solely for fanfare’s sake. 

The corner of his mouth tipped up at the sight of his mother-in-law to be commanding a host of vendors and scurrying people to all corners of the yard. He was grateful not to be the target of her ire, and he pitied Pavetta’s future beaus. “Do you want the truth, or do you want me to ease you into it with well intentioned lies?”

She groaned, and Kosmos came trotting around the doorframe, someone downstairs had let him out to potty. He launched his big body onto the bed with a thump, nosing around Yennefer’s back before hunkering down behind her. Geralt walked into her field of vision and she reached for him, setting her hands on his shoulders when he bent to kiss her. 

“Good luck today.” She murmured, running her thumb past his lower lip. 

“Thank you.” He combed through her wild hair gently. “If it doesn’t work out, maybe they’ll let me play one of the Saxons that gets skewered by my queen’s sword. That’ll make me feel better.” He joked. 

She ran his tie through her fingers, “Maybe as my concubine. Sharpen my blades by day, liven my bed by night.” She licked her lips suggestively.

He smirked, “Is that so far from reality, my love?” 

———

“Mother, _why_ is there a table labeled “gifts”? I thought I explicitly said none of that.” Yennefer tsked at her mother’s open defiance of her wishes. 

In true Calanthe fashion, the yard did look impressively elegant, twirled tulle and tiny white lights wound through the trees and bushes. “Mom? Where’s Geralt’s deck furniture?” The mahogany colored furniture set was missing, and in it’s place ivory cloth covered tables.

Her mother had yet to answer either of her questions when Eist slipped past her holding a silver tray, probably filled with delights from his bakery. He set the tray down and stopped to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You look so beautiful, Raven.” 

She wore a fitted white dress that went to her mid-thigh and was offset by a flowing lace piece. The delicate lace covered the flirty neck line and hung in delicate tiers down her body. Her wavy curls were parted to the side and secured with a small, but sophisticated crystal hair piece. 

She kissed his cheek. “Truly? You could not stop her?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You haven’t been home in a while honey, I think you’ve forgotten how things work.” She smiled. “You know I must pick my battles, and selfishly, I let this one lie. I wanted to see you have your day.” She shook her head and he hustled away under Calanthe’s watchful eye. 

———

Yennefer spent at least an hour just greeting the guests that poured in. From her university friends to second cousins she could swear she’d never met before, her mother had invited them all. Her feet were already starting to hurt in the stylish heels she wore. She slipped them off and shoved them under the nearest table before her mother saw. 

“I saw that, missy.” Of course she had. “Now who’s this coming, mother and daughter?” 

Yennefer spoke under her breath. “Not quite. The younger one is Philippa, she’s an actress and she’s dating Geralt’s older brother Eskel. The one on the left is Geralt’s mom, Clarissa. She’s an interior decorator, and she decorated the house. I haven’t met her yet so please behave.” 

Yennefer shushed her surprise that this was their first meeting and leaned forward to give Philippa a kiss on her cheek. “Philippa, thank you for coming! Mrs. Thornwald, this is my mother, Calanthe. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Geralt has told me so many lovely things about you.” 

“Good to know I raised him right. You’ve been keeping him so busy he hasn’t had time to tell me much about you at all!” Clarissa smiled demurely. 

Yennefer reeled at how many thinly veiled digs one sentence could contain. 

She went on, and Philippa seemed wholly unsurprised. “My husband was fortunate enough to have already met you of course, he told me how well liked you were down in that French jail. Still, it must have been such an awful experience for you!”

Calanthe couldn’t help herself. “It’s so fortunate that she was acquitted of all charges, and the she gave all that money to charity.” She patted Yennefer on the hand. She still hadn’t recovered from the fact that her future mother-in-law chose her bridal shower to discuss her time in a foreign prison. “The kids did a great job of turning that tragedy into something positive, and I’m sure they’re all the stronger for it.” 

Clarissa raised her brow at the subtle challenge. She would find a hell of a fight in Calanthe if she chose to bully Yennefer, who would no doubt try, for Geralt’s sake, to please the woman. 

“Yes, you’re quite right.” A snappily dressed waiter breezed by with flutes of champagne and all four women took one. Clarissa turned to peer through the sliding doors into the living room. “I like the changes you made to the living room furniture, very comfortable looking.” 

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Kosmos had an accident one night before his cast was off and they’d chosen to replace the whole set of furniture in favor of something more functional. She and Geralt spent time on it cuddling and playing with the dog, as opposed to hosting dinner parties for socialites. 

Obviously she didn’t like that Yennefer had removed the furniture she originally picked out, and she was staking her claim on Geralt, and the house, and the very grass Yennefer stood in. 

Philippa had been casually listening, a bored look on her face. “Phil just purchased a lovely new set for my eldest son’s loft as well. Actually, I think it’s pretty similar to the one Geralt had - funny how that happened!”

Calanthe starred daggers at the woman, visibly biting her lip. Not only had she made no effort to meet her future daughter-in-law, but she had obviously spent a lot of time with Philippa. She made no attempt to even humor Yennefer, her passive aggressive stabs unrelenting. Calanthe knew first hand the pain and doubt that rejection by one’s in-laws caused. She had to stem the flow of the woman’s mouth without slapping it and upsetting Yennefer and her relationship with Geralt. She took a sip of her champagne and Yennefer downed hers.

She put her hand on her daughter’s arm. “Quite! Yenna, Pavetta is flagging us down.” She turned, “I’m glad you both could come, please make yourselves at home.”

They walked away, only to hear Philippa mutter, “She’s drinking, at least she’s not pregnant yet.”

———

The massive pile of gifts was exhausting and she could have done with Geralt’s help, but her mother insisted he was to show up at the end of the party only. Yennefer knew he was busy anyway, but still, picturing them using the thoughtful gifts together made her long for his presence. She sat propped up on a comfortable chair along the tables, Pavetta occupying Kosmos to her left and her mother in her glory at her right. Sabrina ferried gifts to and from her chair with little winks and kind smiles. 

“This one is from,” she opened the card, “Great Aunt Nenneke. The card is beautiful, thank you.” 

“Open the box sweetie!” The woman was ancient, but like all the women in Yennefer and Calanthe’s family, she would not fade quietly into old age. 

Yennefer opened the large box with Pavetta’s help, to reveal a beautiful hand crocheted blanket. It was done in ivories and champagnes, with _Geralt and Yennefer_ and their wedding date embroidered in the corner. “Oh, it’s exquisite, I won’t let the dog anywhere near it, thank you auntie!”

“It’s fer makin’ babies under sweetheart!” She hollered. “Before I die, if you please!” 

The group laughed and Yennefer turned as red as the chocolate covered strawberries on the table behind her. She heard Pavetta gag dramatically as Calanthe wiggled her eyebrows at the talk of a grandchild. Clarissa and Philippa sat to the side looking somewhere between annoyed and offended at the prospect. 

Blessedly that had been the last beautiful package, and she thanked everyone. In the middle of her thank you, movement in the front corner of the yard caught her eye. Geralt had returned and come through the gate, a huge bouquet of white roses in his hand. He secured the latch and met her gaze, knowing she would be anxious to know the result of his meeting. The last read for the major role he wanted so bad. 

They spoke wordlessly, across the yard and over everyones’ heads. He reached into his pocket with his free hand pulled out a pair of black rimmed glasses, slipping them over his nose with a smile. Her mother was knee deep in a description of the wedding cake Eist would make for them, when Yennefer squealed and launched out of her chair. 

Pavetta held Kosmos firmly as her sister ran across the manicured grass in her bare feet, jumping into his arms with a laugh. He spun her while she whispered her proud congratulations against his ear. The women gave a collective _awe_ when she slid down his front and he bent to give her a sweet kiss. 

“I’m _so_ excited for you. When is the first call? I’ll do the diet with you, the gym.” Before he could answer her questions her eyes narrowed, “Wait, who’s playing Lois?”

He laughed, and her great aunt spoke up. “About time you got here son, don’t tell me I need to explain to you how my gift works?” She gave him a suspicious look, and Pavetta dissolved into giggles.

———  
-Geralt-

Geralt’s grip on the pen tightened, so much so that the plastic cracked, unbeknownst to the two men on the other end of the video call. Ever the professional, he was letting them down easy, no longer able to accept the role they had chosen him for. Superman was a life changer, a career maker, and he wouldn’t abandon that or Atlantis for this additional part. 

“You’re turning us down, aren’t you Thornwald?” 

His breath caught in his throat, and he cleared it with a sudden cough. He folded his hands on the desk, the modern black and white decor of his home office in the back of the video image. 

“I am, I’m so sorry. Something else has just come up,” he paused, “that I can’t refuse.” 

“Well, we’re disappointed Geralt, but I understand.” Geralt slid forward in the chair. “It better be good Thornwald, you better knock whatever this is out of the park so we don’t feel as bad for losing you.” 

He gripped the edge of the desk. “I’ll do my very best. Thank you for understanding and I hope the rest of your project is smooth sailing.” They agreed and said their goodbyes. The second he shut the lid on his laptop, he closed his eyes and shakily let out the breath he’d been holding. 

He leaned back in the chair and caught her eyes, mischief and passion vivid on their surface. She released him with a wet sound, running her shiny lips over his swollen head. He had no more than dialed the producers on the video call before she entered the room looking for something, only to crawl under the desk from the opposite side and unzip the fly of his pants. 

“Yennefer Ceceli- _oh fuck_ ,” he groaned. She slid her mouth down the length of him again before he could play and chastise her for making him squirm during the call. Her forehead brushed his belly and he swept the hair from her eyes, pinning it behind her head with his hand. He didn’t need to point her in the right direction, she knew just how to swirl her tongue and when to suck harder. 

His hand fisted and relaxed on the desk while she bobbed underneath it, her plump, pink lips dragging over each vein and contour of his hard length while he watched. His lips parted around his shallow breaths as they came quicker, and her hand wrapped around the base of him. 

She pumped her small hand faster, in time with the measured pulls of her mouth, and he began to rock slightly opposite her passes. He slid farther forward on the chair and she sighed around him, his free hand joining it’s mate tangled in her long tresses. “ _Yen_ , I’m close -,” his head bent forward and he thrust in earnest. “Oh, fucking, _yes_ ,” he hissed, as his chin tipped upward and he grunted his release to the heavens. 

She hadn’t quite keep up with all of him, and he yanked his shirt off to wipe the corners of her mouth gently. She unfolded herself from underneath the desk and he pulled her onto his thigh, his arm wrapped around her hips. “Sorry about your call. When I walked in, and you looked so cute and professional, I couldn’t resist.”

“Not sorry, you’re officially invited to all of my video and phone calls from now until the end of time.” His expression was relaxed and he rubbed circles on her ribs. 

She grinned. “Oh, what I actually came for was your laptop charger. Mine may, or may not, have chew marks in it.”

“It’s under the desk in that mess of cords. Let’s switch seats and see if I can find it.” He wet his lip, the hunger in his eyes matched by his wicked smirk.

———  
-Yennefer-

She had seen the tv shows where a bride brought her entire family to search for her wedding gown, only to have too many opinions and to leave empty handed. She loved her mother, but her thoughts were strong and not easily broken, and Yennefer wanted to choose her own dress. She had taken only Sabrina, who brought her to a tiny little bridal shop in Stratford where she had her dress custom made. 

The owner was lovely, a talented seamstress named Tissaia, and her only help was her teenage daughter Renfri. She was thoughtful and patient, and together they had designed a beautiful one of a kind piece. She had returned many times for fittings and alterations, and she was bringing her mother, Pavetta and Sabrina with her to pick up the dress for her final appointment. 

The small group walked in the door chatting, the little bell on the door chirping their arrival. Tissaia came forward to greet them and Calanthe gasped, accidentally stepping on the backs of Yennefer’s feet. “Ow! Mom!” Yenenfer bent to rub the abused skin on her ankles. 

It took her a moment, but she shook herself from her reverie and apologized, fretting over the scuffs on the expensive heels. “It’s fine, they pinch my toes anyway.” Tissaia only smiled softly as was her habit, but something was fishy with her mother. Maybe the they knew each other. 

Renfri brought out her dress, and suddenly it was all she could think about. All three women _oooohed_ and _ahhhhed_ over Tissaia and and Renfri’s creation. “Put it on sweetie.” Calanthe encouraged, Tissaia nodding her agreement. 

When Yennefer and Tissaia were alone in the dressing room, she once again offered her congratulations. In the weeks that Yennefer had been coming for design and fitting appointments, she had gotten to know the woman and her daughter fairly well. She had been genuinely happy for her and curious about Geralt and all different aspects of her life. Yennefer considered her a friend. “He’s going to have to pick his jaw up off of the floor darling. You are a vision.” 

Yennefer walked out and turned in front of them. The gown was ivory with a white lace overlay, two thin straps lead down to a plunging “V” neck. Every detail was exquisite, from the manner in which it clung to her curves, to the delicate way the lacy scalloped edges kissed the floor and fanned out behind her in a short train. Her back was back was bare down to her trim waist, her creamy skin offset by the tiny embroidered pearls on it’s edges. Calanthe began not so subtly crying, and Yennefer and Sabrina rushed to comfort her.

“ _Mom_ ,” Pavetta grumbled, her tone pure _teenager_. “I’m never getting married.” Renfri rolled her eyes, “I know, right?!” 

———  
-Geralt-

He missed her. Geralt had been on set non stop, rigged up in the air or pounding the pavement in the boots and cape. It was a dream role and he was having the time of his life, but he missed Yennefer. She had thrown herself into her role as a ruthless Viking queen, and much of her free time had been spent chasing after Calanthe and her runaway wedding plans. 

He stood to the side with her assistant, watching the scene unfold. Yennefer was stunning, her hair was braided and wound around the crown of her head, a jeweled piece signifying her character’s rank atop her head. Her dark lashes were emphasized with a generous amount of kohl around her flashing eyes, her lips painted a vibrant berry.

A heavy looking jewel encrusted necklace hung low on her neck, drawing the eye to her ample cleavage, displayed proudly by the corset portion of her gown. Her arms were painted with blue and red warpaint, as were her legs where the dress split high on each of her thighs. Sleeveless and flowing to the floor, the dress screamed royalty and respect. He wanted to make _her_ scream in it.

A rival leader had challenged her authority and demanded the surrender of her forces. The look on her face when she snarled her response made him shiver. The director called the scene and Geralt walked forward as the man to her left helped her down the steps of the rudimentary throne. Her hand slid from his and he realized why it struck him funny, he wasn’t used to seeing her without her ring.

She turned and lit up when she saw Geralt, leaning into his firm kiss before introducing him to her character’s handsome young consort. He shook Geralt’s hand and sang Yennefer’s praises, thrilled to work with another LAMDA alum, and one as talented as she. The pair walked toward the dressing rooms. “This is a wonderful surprise, what are you doing here?” She squeezed his hand.

“Missed you.” 

She didn’t have her own trailer as her role was semi-permanent, but she had a dressing room with an adjoining bathroom. She pulled the door shut behind them and twisted the lock, his hands finding her waist. “You look phenomenal love. Regal, sexy, fierce, and gorgeous as fuck.” He punctuated each word with a kiss, careful not to disrupt the paint on her skin. “How long?” 

“Mmmm, ten minutes until they come in for her battle outfit.” 

He trapped and released her bottom lip between his teeth gently before moving down to the delicate flesh offered up by the tight, plunging neckline of the dress. He ran his hands down the ridged boning of the corset piece, praising kisses across her smooth skin and darting his tongue between her breasts. “You can breathe in this?” Her waist was cinched so tight underneath his roving hands. 

She smiled at his worry. “I won’t be running any marathons, but live to see another victorious day on the bloody battlefield I shall.” 

Ten, now nine minutes wasn’t much time. He maneuvered her to a low table in front of the small couch and sat her down. She carded her hand through his slicked back curls. “Your hair is as dark as mine, Kosmos isn’t the only one taking his time adjusting to it.” He knew she had hoped he could let his natural, unique white grow through during their break from Atlantis, but instead black he went for his new role. “What’s the use of marrying an old man if he doesn’t even look old?” 

She pursed her lips together to hold back her grin and she could see the smile around his eyes. “Still the same old man.” Her skirts were long but light, and the slits that ran up her thighs made his job easy.

“Prove it.” She challenged. 

He hesitated for a moment, her thighs were covered in an intricate red and blue hatched design. “They have to repaint it anyway, the warpaint is a different - _oh_ ,” she sighed, her hand falling back to the table, supporting her lean. Her flesh colored panties were already on the floor, his cheeks sliding against the smooth skin of her inner thighs. She relaxed and let her knees fall open for him, the familiar motions of his tongue soothing and tantalizing at the same time. 

“Feels like my fiancé, yet he looks like,” she paused to lick her lips, “some devilishly handsome young warrior,” her eyes closed and her head tipped back, “ _ah_ \- come to his queen’s chambers for a lesson in carnal pleasure.” He released her clit and spread her with his fingers so he could lap his tongue deep, humming his agreement to the image she painted.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door. “Fuck! _Again_.” She cursed under her breath, panic flooding her as it had when Jaskier had come for him so long ago. Geralt kept on his track, curling his tongue high inside her, unwilling to give up.

“Yennefer, it’s just me. Whenever you’re ready I’ll start your paint.” 

She whimpered when he pressed his thumb near her clit and circled slowly. “In just a few minutes, thank you Frannie.” 

He sped up his mouth and his hand, her breaths coming shorter and shorter in the tight corset. She leaned forward to watch him, her hand running the broad expanse of his shoulders, his black t-shirt barely able to contain the weight he’d added. Even the collar of the shirt was tight, he was turning into a beast. 

His beauty writhed beneath him, her leg beginning to twitch against his arm. She pushed her hips as far forward on the table as she could, working opposite his tongue before her hand slapped over her mouth to muffle the loud cry that flew from her lips. Her back arched against the tight boning and she pulled in harsh pants of air as she trembled, her legs pining him close.

Slowly she went limp on the table, her legs released their hold and he quickly licked her clean. He slipped her panties back on and righted the dress. When he leaned over her flushed face, she burst out laughing. His eyes went wide. She leaned up to kiss him, his lips tart and sweet with the taste of her, before she turned his head to look into the vanity mirror. 

He was purple, smudged paint from his nose down past his chin. One ear was red and the other blue. He smirked. “This makes it easy, if I see another purple man on set I know who to kill.” She shook her head, grabbing a towel to clean the rainbow off of him. 

“You won’t find any other purple men, here, nor anywhere. Ever.” He pulled her close and kissed her firmly. “I’m sorry.” He knew she meant the erection straining against his jeans. “Want me to tell you yucky things again?” She offered.

“Ah yes, the summer of blue balls. It was long ago, yet I recall it with a painful clarity.” 

“I wore push up bras for two weeks straight just to torture you.” She wiped underneath his jaw. 

“You brat!” He swatted at her rear end lightly and she danced out of the way, laughing. “Well then, I feel less bad for taking my shirt off all the time to make you squirm.” 

“Squirm, I did.” She waggled her eyebrows and the woman knocked at the door again. “Oh! I’ve got it, just think about my great auntie trying to teach you the birds and the bees again.” 

He shuddered. “I hope you never use your powers for evil my love.” 

They let the woman in and she introduced him, sharing one last quick kiss goodbye. 

He walked by her to leave and Frannie smiled, “You missed a spot,” motioning toward a light blue swirl underneath his chin. He wiped at it, both he and Yennefer blushing, before he ducked out. “Nice to meet you!” She called after him, laughter in her tone.

———  
Two Days Before the Wedding  
-Geralt-

“I think you should go.” 

Geralt sighed heavily. They were enjoying a rare dinner at home, and Jaskier was blowing up his phone about a bachelor party. “It’s just an excuse for Jask to get out of the house and for Eskel to get away from that shrew. I’m sorry, but Philippa has been a bitch since they started dating. Is it just me?”

Yennefer dropped her gaze into her salad. “It’s not you. She was in rare form during the shower as well.” 

His fork hit his plate louder than he planned as he swallowed a bite of pork chop, but the expression on his face was reserved. “What happened?”

“She and your mother are not fans of mine.” 

He wanted to ask, _Why the hell not!?_ but thought better of it. She had been vague for a reason. “Do you want me to say something to my mom, because that’s bull shit.” 

She waved her hand. “I don’t think there’s any hope there, to be honest. We don’t have to be close, don’t strain your relationship over it.” 

He wanted to know what the hell his mother and Phil had said. Clarissa gained and lost friends like the tides, and he knew she could be stubborn. He let it go for the time being. “I’m sorry about their behavior on your day, and I’m glad you didn’t let them ruin it.” He thought about her bright smile when he’d arrived.

“All the more reason Eskel and Jaskier want to get tanked. We’ve got too much shit to do, the wedding is in two days. I need to be helping you, not hungover from a night of being forced to ogle random tits.” He cut more of the pork chop. 

She got up to refill their water glasses. “Are you going to _touch_ said tits?” She asked casually.

“Well of course not, the only ones I care to touch are yours. Repeatedly. Constantly. Forever.” 

She smirked into the bin of lemons in the refrigerator as she grabbed one. “So you’re coming home to these, what’s the harm in letting loose. You’ve been working so hard, dieting, training. Enjoy yourself.” 

“If I can talk them into going to a regular bar, would you come too? I want to enjoy myself with _you_.” She poured him fresh water and he thanked her. 

“No way! That’s guy only time, a once in a lifetime thing. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy me in the mountains.” She purred, before walking away from his reaching hands. 

“I’m counting on it.” 

In the end he let Jaskier and Eskel drag him out, but it was _he_ who shoved them both back into the limo at the end of the night. Eskel carried on about one of the dancers who’d dressed like an angel, and Jaskier burst out laughing, recanting the way her ass shook in Eskel’s face. 

Paparazzi had just located them and he wanted nothing to do with it, so he directed the driver and reclined back with a beer to watch his brother and best friend babble about their epic night out. He smiled to himself, _his_ angel was at home in his bed curled around their dog and he couldn’t wait to get back to her.

———  
-Off Set Interview with Geralt and Yennefer-

Geralt and Yennefer sat on their couch, Kosmos prancing around nervously as he sniffed her tripod and camera equipment. Callonetta fidgeted with the exposure and took her seat across from them. They trusted her, and at that point, considered her their friend. They invited her to the wedding, giving her exclusive rights to publish a few photos she thought were appropriate. 

Callonetta: “Thank you both so much for inviting me into your lovely home! It’s two days before the wedding, are you nervous?”

Geralt: “No.” 

Yennefer: “Yes.”

C: She laughed. “Why aren’t you nervous Geralt?”

G: “Unless she sees me and runs the other way, there’s nothing that can go wrong that will matter to me.” He rubbed his thumb over Yennefer’s hand. 

C: “Except what matters to her,” gesturing toward Yennefer, “so really, you’re on edge about every little thing.” The expression on his face changed as he realized what she said was true. Yennefer laughed and patted his knee. 

Y: “Welcome to _happy wife, happy life_ love.” She turned. “In his defense, he always operates that way. He puts me first even when I wish he wouldn’t.” It was her turn to squeeze his hand.

C: “That’s so sweet it makes me want to rethink my moratorium on dating.” She winked. “So we’re going to play a game, but first, can I just ask for the story on the first time you met?”

They both laughed, and she told him to go ahead.  
G: “We had been filming separately for weeks, until we finally had a scene together. In my infinite wisdom, I thought it would be a great idea to antagonize her about being fatigued. What I didn’t know is she’d been swimming for upwards of ten hours and she didn’t take that well.” Kosmos plopped down at his feet. “And I had a learned habit of judging women early and being an ass. So she promptly tried to scratch my face off. Which seemed extreme, but now in context, completely appropriate.” 

Y: “To make matters worse, he finished off the last of the apple juice on the breakfast cart the next day. He didn’t know it was my favorite, but alas, his doomed fate was sealed.” 

G: “She’s not joking. There’s got to be three jugs of it in that fridge.” He motioned toward the kitchen and she smiled innocently. 

C: “Awe! Hate at first sight! I can remember our first interview was a bit tense.” 

Y: “You could tell?”

C: “Oh god yes, I put your chairs farther apart the next week.” Geralt smirked and pulled Yennefer’s hand to his lips for a kiss while Callonetta bent to pull two little dry erase boards from her bag. “You know what game this is?”

Y: “We’re not newlyweds yet!” 

C: “Technicalities.” She passed each of them a board and a marker. “So obviously you’re not competing against another couple today, but maybe Jaskier and Sabrina will play with us next time.” 

G: “Now I’m nervous.” 

Y: “You are not, remember that emoji movie title game? You kicked my ass, I deserve to win this.” 

C: “Alright, here we go - “

[Who is the better cook?]  
G: Yen  
Y: Yours truly

C: “See, this isn’t painful at all.” She smiled. 

[Who is more likely to kill a spider?]  
G: _arrow up to his face_  
Y: Geralt

[What is Geralt’s favorite pizza topping?]  
G: Sausage  
Y: She flipped her board hesitantly. Ham. “You never mentioned it, we can get that!”  
G: “I know you don’t like it, we don’t need to get it.”  
Y: “But if it’s your favorite, why don’t we -“, she remembered where she was. She grimaced and turned to Callonetta, “I got one wrong.”

C: “That’s alright, how important is it anyway? And he never told you, so it wasn’t fair.” Yennefer seemed satisfied with that. 

[What’s Yennefer’s bra size?]  
G: He looked panicked, he had no clue the number. His answer; Two perfect handfuls  
Y: 32C

Callonetta bent over in the chair laughing at Geralt’s face and his proud answer. Yennefer smirked and patted his knee. 

[Who said I love you first?]  
G: This guy  
Y: Geralt

[Who is the better driver?]  
G: Me  
Y: Geralt

[If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?]  
G: A crossed out mess, then Steak, and for Yen, Chocolate  
Y: Steak, Chocolate ice cream

Yennefer gasped when she saw his scribbles. “You put something inappropriate first didn’t you!” 

He defended himself, “There was no eraser!” Callonetta was crying she was laughing so hard. “Do you want me to be honest, only eat one thing for the rest of my life I’ll tell you right now -“ 

Yennefer covered his mouth with her hand. “You will not tell anyone anything right now.” He eased back into the couch with a smirk, knowing he’d won.

———  
The Big Day  
-Yennefer-

A sleek limo flew down the country roads from London to North Yorkshire, flanked on either end by British police cruisers, a gift from her friends at the French precinct. Yennefer sat in the very back, her pulse beginning to race and her heart in her throat. Pavetta sat to her immediate left, next Calanthe and Sabrina farther down the car. 

Sabrina waved at her glazed over look, “You there sweetie? You breathing alright?” 

Yennefer nodded shakily. Calanthe gave Pavetta a squeeze, “Check your sister, she looks pale.”

The blonde leveled her sister a quintessential teenage glance, “Yenna. Mom wants to know if you’re alive.” 

Suddenly, Yennefer burst out, “What if he regrets marrying me and leaves me for someone else.”

All three women began denying her worry at the same time. “He would never, you’re just stressed – oh, not your makeup!” “Over my dead body that man shames my daughter and breaks her heart, I’ll string him from the tallest tree and – “ “No way, you’re a total babe Yenna. He loves that you’re a nerd.” 

\------  
-Geralt-

The view from the top floor over the green hills was breathtaking. Allerton Castle was a mammoth structure, and Calanthe had ensured the entire venue was reserved for them. The dining area had been decked out in so many pearls and white flowers he wondered who would have to clean it all up. The ballroom was trimmed to Calanthe’s every specification and boasted a grand staircase he would walk his _wife_ down later that evening for their first dance. Tulle and silks hung and twisted from every pillar and tiny white lights and candles would twinkle well into the evening. 

The grounds were elaborate and classic, the rolling English countryside awash with spring floral colors. An opulent archway had been constructed and nearly two hundred chairs surrounded it in the center of the gardens, a grand scenic view at their backs. Beyond a charming reflecting pool, the grassy area would host a helicopter he had booked as a surprise, to take them directly to the airport so they could leave for their honeymoon right away. 

His father straightened his bow tie and cuffed Geralt on the shoulder. Jaskier and Eskel were carrying on laughing about Eskel’s best man speech. Geralt turned to his father, he had something to get off his chest. “Dad, do you and mom disapprove of Yen?”

Griffin was surprised. “Of course not. Why?”

“Mom was nasty at the bridal shower. Yen wouldn’t tell me what she said. I won’t have her upset, so if you guys have some issue, I suggest you get over it.” He’d never spoken so strongly to his father, but he’d never cared about something, someone, so much to risk his ire. 

“I think Yennefer is darling and we’re extremely lucky to be gaining her as a daughter. Your mother…has her own ideas about the type of woman you should have ended up with. You’re the youngest, her baby, and no woman could ever live up to her expectations.” 

Griffin cleared his throat. “Son, man to man, you’ve got a wonderful woman in Yennefer, and if you have to shut us out for a bit to make her happy I’ll understand. I won’t be pleased, but I’d see you happy over your mother’s pettiness.” 

Geralt shook his head, in disbelief that his own mother couldn’t act like an adult and be civil to the woman he was marrying. “Forget about it today Geralt, and get down there and marry her before she wises up and leaves you.” Geralt suddenly looked pale and Griffin laughed, pulling him in for a tight hug.

———  
-Yennefer-

Her anxieties calmed, Tissaia looped the final button on Yennefer’s gown. The ivory and white set off her skin tone just the way Tissaia knew it would. Her long ebony hair was curled and woven down her bare back, little pearls pinned into the glossy tresses. Her makeup was understated and the blush that covered her cheeks was natural.

“Something old.” Calanthe pinned her mother’s simple pearl earrings onto Yennefer’s ears, giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Something borrowed.” Pavetta handed her a pair of white stain ballet flats. “Don’t wreck ‘em, I wanna wear them for prom, okay?” Yennefer agreed with a smile and gave her a hug. 

“Something blue.” Sabrina twirled a dainty garter on her finger, baby blue ribbon looped through the lace, and they both laughed as she knelt to pull it high on Yennefer’s thigh. 

Renfri showed her again how to tuck and bustle the back of the dress for dancing and to make it easier to walk. Yennefer thanked them both for their hard work and invited them to stay the night in the castle if they wanted. “It was Geralt’s idea, he’s already paid. I hope you’ll stay and enjoy everything.” 

After few last nervous butterflies and hugs, Calanthe and Sabrina filed out, followed by Pavetta and lastly Yennefer. Pavetta turned back. “I know you think you beat me with your classy music, but I already talked to the one violin guy. They know _Baby Got Back_ , so congrats my lovely sister, I’ve saved your reception.” Yennefer just laughed. 

———  
-Geralt-

From where he stood he could see all of their family and friends. He recognized most of the faces, but not all of them. Chireadan, Salma, Ragnar, Dara, and Vesemir and Rita were clustered a few rows back. Callonetta and her date who was taking photos sat on the opposite side. A couple sat next to them he couldn’t place until she turned and he could tell it was the woman Yennefer had met in jail, Trish. Only _she_ would make friends wherever she went. 

Cerys sat in the front row on Yennefer’s side, keeping Kosmos from leaping and licking everyone who bustled by. The little bow tie collar she’d gifted them with was so thoughtful of her. The older couple who had fostered Kosmos and his brothers and sisters sat a ways back, bright, knowing smiles on their faces. The dressmaker and her daughter came to sit, telling him it must be getting close to the time they planned to begin. 

Directly in front of him sat his father, and Philippa held onto Delilah while Jaskier made funny faces at her from behind Geralt and Eskel. Jaskier leaned to Geralt, “See that little old man behind Dara?” Geralt nodded. “That’s the piano player from the hotel, the night you danced with Yenna at the Gala. You remember, pioneer of pleasur-“ Geralt held up his hand, he hadn’t forgotten. Jaskier continued, “He’s going to play _Perfect_ again for your first dance. You’re welcome brother.” 

“She’s going to cry.” Geralt predicted. 

“Damn right she is. I’m never going to get a whiff of grief about that bet for as long as I live after this. My redemption will be epic.” 

Before he could retort, the music began and the crowd hushed. Both of their mothers were escorted down the isle, followed by Sabrina and Pavetta. The bridal procession seemed to boom in his ears as the gravity of the moment hit him and the crowd abandoned their seats.

Eist led her around the corner and Geralt couldn’t breathe. There were no words to describe how beautiful she looked, even from afar. He felt his brother’s hand on his back, he probably looked a mess. 

The dress was perfect, sexy and elegant, just like it’s wearer. Her lacy veil billowed out behind her and the white lilies in her hand completed the image of his wildest dream come true. Their eyes met and knew without a doubt she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He wouldn’t have been able to tear his gaze away, even if his pant leg was on fire. 

They were a third of the way down the long isle when he heard a gasp to his right, and Kosmos bounded down the isle toward Yennefer. Everyone was frozen but the bride, who only laughed and called him to her side. He trotted slowly and proudly by her feet the rest of the way, as if he was giving her away instead of her father. A collective sigh of relief could be heard, and her father delivered her hand into Geralt’s with a kiss to her cheek. “Love you, my little Raven.”

———  
Alberta, Canada  
-Geralt-

Another little bell jingled as he held the door open for her. Yennefer walked through and out into the brisk air, the street busy with shoppers and and skiers alike. The village was quaint, but she managed to find enough gifts for everyone on her list, her bags secure in his right hand, his left on the small of her back. The night sky was dark, but the street was lit with thousands of twinkling lights and bright lanterns. 

Yennefer had requested their honeymoon be somewhere cold, she was sick of the beach, and let him plan the rest. He took her request to heart and rented a lavish and isolated cabin up in the mountains of Lake Louise. The weather had been even colder than he expected, but it hadn’t mattered, and their outing that night was their first foray out of the cabin in a week. He wasn’t upset about it.

He followed her into the next shop, which featured handmade jewelry, and waited patently for her to analyze the pieces under the glass. The older woman behind the counter struck up a conversation with her, possibly because of the expensive coat and bag Yennefer carried, but she seemed genuine enough. He zoned out, just for a moment, the image of her sprawled out on the massive four poster bed in their cabin enough to make him unconsciously shift his weight. 

“Don’t you think so? Geralt?” She asked.

“Yes dear.” He’d missed the question. 

“Did you just, _yes dear_ me?” There was amusement in her eyes, but her tone called for a response. 

“Unintentionally, because you _are_ my dear. She, who is very dear to me….” He trailed off and neither woman was buying it. 

The shopkeeper took pity on him. “Pick your battles honey, most women would love a husband who left them to their own devices at the jewelry counter. In fact, based on that moony expression on his face, I don’t think he was ignoring you at all. Newlyweds, aren’t you?” 

The word _husband_ seemed to soften Yennefer’s ire and she resumed her shopping with a laugh. He pulled out his phone and ordered a bouquet of flowers to be sent to the woman first thing in the morning. She showed him her selection, tiny little earrings meant for Cerys. He nodded and handed the woman his card over Yennefer’s, insisting he pay for her gift. Yennefer thanked the store owner and she winked at Geralt as they turned to leave.

Either no one in Canada watched Atlantis, or it was because they’d holed away together in their cabin for so long, but they were unrecognized and were able to move through the streets unperturbed. They blended in with many other affluent couples who’d come to vacation or ski. 

It started to snow lightly, and snowflakes landed in Yenenfer’s inky hair, making it look like someone had just shaken their snow globe. “Feed me?” She pointed to a little restaurant and bar across the street. 

———

They ate their dinner in peace and intimate conversation, one of the few times they’d been able to do so without being recognized. He shared a piece of his steak with her, and she arched her brow suggestively when she wrapped her lips around the tender meat. His cloth napkin mysteriously went from the table to his lap.

“So what did your dad say to you before he walked you down the isle? Did he tell you to run for the hills?”

She smiled around a forkful of her salmon. “Almost.” She winked. “He told me I would always be his baby, and that he was proud of me. And that I could always come home.” 

“Damn, I thought he liked me.” 

“He does. He just likes me more.” She gave him an innocent look. “It might have had something to do with the fact that your mother wore black. To our wedding.” She waited for his thoughts. 

He swallowed what he hoped wasn’t the last good tasting piece of his steak, knowing his mother had made a fool of herself. “I had planned to tell you that it was a deep navy, but she did. It is, in no way, a reflection on you. She’s going through something - empty nest, jealousy, menopa - just, something. It’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry for her behavior.”

She set her wine glass back on the table. “It’s not your fault, I knew she didn’t like me. I just didn’t realize how much. If you can deal with her dislike of me, then so can I. We will, however, have to keep the mothers separated.”

He smirked, her mother was such a pistol. “That goes without saying.” 

A little band started up in the corner of the dimly lit room, and they opened the floor to requests or karaoke if the patrons wished. He encouraged her to go sing. “It’s been forever since you worked on the Atlantis soundtrack. You better check and make sure your vocals are on point as a married woman, might need to make some tweaks.”

“Don’t tempt me, because I will, and someone might recognize us.” 

“You won’t.” He challenged.

Five minutes later she stepped onto the little stage hesitantly and whispered in the piano player’s ear. He looked shocked, and whispered back to her. She nodded confidently, and even though he looked worried, he flipped through his sheet music. 

Yenenfer’s soothing voice began before the music, and the crowd went silent. 

[Whispers in the morning]

They immediately protested. “Oh honey, don’t do it!” - “Come on!” - “I’m trying to eat here!”

“Shut up and let her sing.” A deep voice came from one of the secluded tables in the back, and Geralt appeared innocent when they looked to find the source of the bellow. 

Half of the restaurant could hear her, and were listening with rapt attention, and when the whiners finally lowered their voices they did the same. The music crescendoed and they all braced themselves to hear her butcher their beloved Céline’s epic notes. Yennefer’s London accent made her tone just a bit different, but she carried them through each line strong and true. 

[‘Cause I’m your lady, and you are my man]

She sought out Geralt’s proud smile, and he winked at her. She made it through the verse without trouble, and the mood in the room shifted. She was not just some woman who walked in off the street and ordered the salmon. 

[The feeling that I can’t go on, is light years away—]

She landed and held the challenging note, and the patrons were abuzz. “Woooo!!” - *sharp whistle* - “Who is she?!” - “Sing it sister!” - “I know her, she’s from Atlantis!” - “Damn girl!” - “They’re both here!”

She finished the song and handed the microphone back to the flabbergasted pianist. They watched her walk back to her plate in a hail of applause, her attention only for the man waiting, like nothing had happened. She sat in her seat demurely, and met Geralt’s gaze over her water glass. “When in Rome.” 

His deep laugh was lost in the crowd of people who surrounded their table.

———

He looked out the window of their luxurious cabin estate, down at the warm glow of the village below. They were probably still buzzing about the European celebrities in their midst. His phone was pinched between his ear and his shoulder, and his assistant rattled on with things he’d missed and his schedule when they returned the next week. 

He tossed the ball for Kosmos absentmindedly, hoping the extra walk and playtime would be enough to tire him out for a while. Yennefer was in the shower, her beautiful wedding dress still hanging like a lace banner on a high hook in the hallway. He thought back to every stolen kiss and caress on their plane ride from the wedding, the private jet worth every penny as he’d pried apart one tiny button after another. 

Kosmos perked up just before the doorbell rang and he ended the call, wondering who was up on the mountain at ten o’clock at night. He tipped the delivery boy and bolted the door shut again. In his hand was a box from one of the stores in the village they’d been to that night. 

He slid the box open and froze, it was the watch he’d been after, but decided they shouldn’t spend the money on. He looked up to find her in the doorframe, wearing only a towel and a smile. “Happy Honeymoon.” 

“Don’t you move a muscle, I have something for you as well. Been distracted, almost forgot.” 

“Geralt no, just take the gift.” He was already down the hallway, Kosmos at his heel. She waited patiently and he returned with a box from their French jeweler. 

“You’ve already given me jewelry love.” She spun her wedding band and he smiled, nudging his nose to hers for a delicate kiss. He opened the box and showed her the new charms for her bracelet. 

“Oh,” she gasped, “it’s our boy!” Three dainty charms rested in the box, a music note, a “T” for her new last name, and a stunning likeness to Kosmos. She ran in the bathroom to get the bracelet and he clasped them on for her. “I love them, thank you.” She slid the watch over his hand and he whispered his thanks into her hair. 

“We never got to open that one from Jask and Sabrina either.” He mentioned, and caught her when she turned to return to the bedroom for her clothes. “Don’t bother, I’ll keep you warm.” She smirked. 

They opened the rectangular gift together, a framed photo of their kiss during the first Atlantis photo shoot. “Our first _real_ kiss,” she sighed, flipping through an envelope of shots from that afternoon, some candid and others posed. He’d included a note, “ _Never published the kiss, somehow it was too personal. Much love, Jask and Brina_ ”

“I wanted you so fucking bad that day.” He pulled her close. “I was so sure you were going to leap off of my lap disgusted.” 

She leaned back against him, her towel coming untied. “Instead, I was wiggling on your cock and twisting so your arm would brush against my breasts.” He was enraptured by the teasing lilt of her voice. “A bit awful of me really, because it gave me something to remember when I touched myself that night.” Her damp hair left a wet spot on his shirt. “How I longed for you when I rubbed little circles on my clit, whimpering your name, wishing you would come and fill m-“ 

The melodic sound of her surprised laugh filled his ears when he flipped her over his shoulder and carried her to the soft, braided rug in front of the fireplace. He laid her down and pulled his shirt off and sent it flying. “Sounds like my sweet, innocent wife has been toying with me from day one.”

Her towel hadn’t made it to the fireplace, and he ran his hands down her bare arms, eliciting a shiver that ran the length of her body. “My turn to toy with _you_ , my love.” She shivered again when he left her alone for a moment. He returned without his belt and holding the wide, silky white ribbon that had been on their gift.

“No peeking.” He slid it over her eyes, and she leaned forward so he could tie it in a knot. She loved playing games in the bedroom, and when she licked her lips provocatively, he knew she was eagerly anticipating his touch. “You remember -“

“Yes my cautious teddy bear, _apple juice_.” She smiled.

“Good girl. I was going to say I already miss seeing your beautiful eyes, but for that teddy comment, there will be no nice complimenting. Only terrible, awful tortures.” 

She giggled. He smirked, knowing she couldn’t see him. He wasn’t even restraining her, but he was twice her size and he liked knowing she was comfortable. 

“Kosmos?” She wondered.

“Zonked on the bed, I shut the door. Now shhh, you’re ruining the incredibly seductive mood I’m trying to create here.” He laid a kiss on her cheek and she leaned into his touch. 

The fireplace crackled and gave off a warm glow, heating her skin and allowing her to relax under his attention. He massaged her shoulders with strong hands, and worked his way down her arms, bringing a contented sigh to her lips. 

He traced his fingers down her breast bone, swirling them around her breasts and along her sides. Without warning he clamped his lips over one of her nipples and she gasped. He bathed it with his tongue before suckling gently, his hand appearing to cradle its twin. Her legs shifted under his and she arched her back, giving him more of her flesh to praise.

Suddenly his decadent mouth disappeared and she let out a little pant of frustration. His mouth didn’t return, only the cool air that he blew, pebbling her nipple in an instant. He shifted down her body and she moaned at the loss of his coarse jeans over her hips.

He palmed one of her dainty feet, kissed her ankle, and squeezed his hands over her calf. He bent her knee to massage the muscle and was treated to the sight of her flushed folds, laid open for him without shame, firelight reflecting off the slick gathered there. He swallowed down his groan and adjusted his jeans.

He kissed her knee and worked the muscles in her thigh, dragging his bottom teeth across her neglected nipple without warning. She jolted in surprise and moaned softly when he licked a broad pass over her nipple, but she didn’t touch him, digging her fingers deeper into the soft rug instead. 

He worked his way up her other leg, laving her naval with his tongue and pressing kisses to her inner thighs. He touched her everywhere except where he knew she wanted him most. “Geralt.” She pleaded. 

“Yes, my bride?” He hovered between her legs, his hot breath fanning over her swollen flesh. 

He climbed off of her abruptly, pulling his jeans off as quietly as he could. He was so hard it was borderline painful. Terrible tortures indeed.

She panicked when he left her. She sat up slightly, turning her head as though she could see, her legs were weak with pent up lust. “Geralt? Pl...please, I -“

He licked her from bottom to top without preamble. “Oh!” She called out, her leg spasming when he reached her clit. He spread her knees a bit wider and licked her thoroughly, the little moans and mewls she was helpless to stop going right to his cock.

“I’m -“ she started to speak, but his lips wrapped around her clit and he pulled the sensitive little bud into his mouth. She screamed. She hit three different pitches before her cry morphed into a guttural moan. He didn’t waver, his hand stroking her folds while his lips caressed her skin. Her hips jerked toward him blindly and she gripped the rug with such force that her knuckles went white.

Her chest filled with air again and she began to come down, her breasts heaving and his name intermixed with her harsh pants. He pulled away and she tried to close her legs and curl up, little jolts of pleasure still sparking on her skin. Instead, he wound her leg around his hip and slid his erection through her soaked center.

She cursed when she felt him enter her, deliberately slow so they could both feel him inch by inch. He dragged his thumbs over both of her nipples before pinching them lightly, pulling out and thrusting back inside her to the hilt. She keened, her hands pulling from the rug and reaching for him blindly. 

He clenched every muscle in his body that he had control of, and tried his best to weather the storm of her unexpected climax. He groaned as she pressed her quaking chest to his and tried to ignore the tantalizingly rhythmic pull of her muscles around him. He wrapped an arm over her back and eased her back to the rug, pulling off the ribbon and burying his face in her neck.

She finally settled underneath him, and arms and legs limp, and turned her head to press a kiss to his ear. He whispered in hers about how magnificent she was, and how he could never again live without her. He slid back and entered her again, as measured a pace as the last tether of his will would allow. 

His movements seemed to breathe life back into her body and she pulled her legs to his sides, the warm glow from the hearth illuminating their damp skin. She was flushed from head to toe, his own skin heated with exertion. He caught her lip in his and kissed her soundly, her palms skittering across his back. “I love you Geralt, always.” 

“Love you until my last breath.” It wasn’t that impressive of a vow when he thought his last breath might be at any exquisite moment. She pushed a damp lock of hair from his eyes and her breath caught at the deep angle he found. He swore, locking his elbow, palm braced on the rug by her cheek. She started rolling her hips up against his, her movements once again frantic.

He snuck his free hand between them and her core jumped and clenched in response. His hold snapped and he groaned, thrusting into her sharply and emptying himself with a drawn out whine that was unlike him. 

She watched him fall part and give in, the force of his climax shuffling them across the floor and bringing the building pressure between her thighs to its breaking point. She sobbed, clinging to his shoulders and convulsing around him, still hard inside her. 

They trembled together, a mess of patient kisses and tender touch. His mind cleared and he realized she was still crying. “Sweetheart?” He wiped at the tears that fell from her eyes and darted into her dark hair.

“Yen?” He cradled her jaw. Her eyes finally focused and she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> I know that reading Geralt in a role so in line with Henry Cavill’s career is probably rough for a lot of you (considering the plethora of issues with the Netflix adaptation) so I appreciate you hanging in there! I saw that adaption first, so Cavill’s Geralt is the physical image in my mind’s eye for the time being (maybe that’ll change once I finish the books). When I picture Geralt as an actor it just seems the most natural for me to do it this way. Anyway, just my acknowledgement of - yeah, I know the show is an abomination for old and true fans of the IP but it’s where I’m at rn so I appreciate your coping skills. :)
> 
> Yes I referenced three different fairy tales in two chaps, but if Sapkowski can do it why can’t I? XD  
> For someone who hates weddings with a passion I ended up writing more of theirs than I planned. 
> 
> Céline - I couldn’t freakin resist, it was their honeymoon, I’m so sorry. XD HOW do you know canon Yen doesn’t like Céline?? XD XD Also I’m part Canadian so this was in no way shade on her, nor Canada :)


	11. Nothing Is As It Seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing Is As It Seems - Ruelle

_:: “Theseus! Come down off of those rocks!” Perseus dropped the canvas he’d been using to sand down a wooden spindle, and ran after the little boy. Theseus was almost three years, and he was curious enough to be five. He scooped up the boy from atop the small rock wall. “What did your mama say about climbing up here?”_

_“Yes.” He smiled sweetly._

_“Tell me the truth.” Perseus prompted. He was going through a phase of telling tall tales. He relished in confusing his parents, and giggled at the tiny havoc he could create._

_Perseus startled when he heard a female voice from behind him, but he recognized her soon enough. “He’s just like you when you were a boy. Chaos wrapped in a handsome package.”_

_His bravado left him, and Theseus hid behind his father’s knee._

_“Auntie, how nice of you to stop by, unannounced, as always.” Perseus hefted the growing boy against his chest and turned to greet his half sister. She was a rare visit, and they were careful not to say her true name, lest Theseus use it in front of the villagers._

_“I can see you’ve finally warmed to my arrival. To gain a decent reception, I had only to move heaven and earth, twice, for you to be reunited with your lover.” Theseus watched her with rapt fascination, her gold laced gown and sun kissed hair a stark contrast to his mother’s dark locks and plain dresses._

_“For that we are eternally grateful, you know this sister. Stay for supper. Unless you’re bringing bad news, then leave and forget the way back.” He teased. Her gaze dropped and he knew it was the latter. Fuck._

_“She’ll be home within the hour if I had to guess. The blacksmith’s first child is due any day, Eirene’s tending to his wife.”_

_“This being the same blacksmith that tried to claim her for his own the second you two had your first row? How mature of you to let her anywhere near the man, married or not, with your luck.”_

_“One and the same. The same man who helped her for half a year when she was too heavily pregnant to fend for herself and then looking after a newborn alone. He too, has earned his seat at our table.” The guilt he bore over being absent for that time was still plain in his tone._

_Theseus was bored of their chatter and struggled to be let down. He ventured toward her and reached to touch her gilded dress hesitantly, looking back to be sure his father was still behind him. She tousled his hair and he smiled, deciding she was fun. “This one is fearless Perseus, he will have a sword in his hand in no time.”_

_“Already.” He gestured to the little wooden sword that sat near the pieces of the chair Perseus was constructing. ::_

_———_

_:: Their home was simple, but inviting. Perseus and trusted members of his crew had constructed it with their bare hands. The main room was large and housed a stone hearth and most of their furniture - some purchased and some made by him. Their bedroom lay on the opposite side, and a ladder near their door led up to a loft room that Theseus was just old enough to inhabit by himself. Though he did spend an occasional night in his parent’s bed, if he pouted to his mother just so._

_Neither of them wanted to stay at the house on the hill after what had happened, so they sold it and built around a small lagoon, not far from the coast. A small stable went in first, followed by a barn, the house, and an underground cellar she used for storing dried herbs and foodstuffs._

_Athena didn’t have to wait long for the sound of hooves nearing along the dirt path. Eirene’s mare curled around the edge of the clearing, more than familiar with the location of her next food and drink. Athena waved off Perseus’s inquiring look, “I’ll watch him for a few moments, don’t rile yourself.”_

_He was waiting when Eirene slid from the saddle and into his arms. They shared a kiss, an almost wordless exchange letting him know Icarus’s wife was healthy and the presence and identity of their guest. He took Isolde to the stable and Eirene approached as Theseus played within sight._

_“Sister.” Athena greeted her, a term of affection considering the gods gave little regard for the mortal tradition that resulted in the gold band on Eirene’s finger. Eirene pulled her into a tight embrace, unable to forget Athena’s role in returning Perseus to them._

_“Will you dine on my fish, or am I preparing the mutton, reserved only for the most esteemed guests?” Theseus finally looked up from the shiny puzzle toy Athena had given him when he heard her voice. He ran to her skirts and raised his arms to be picked up. Her back protested when she did so, but he cuddled into her chest and she was loathe to deny him anything._

_“Seafood is fine, so long as it’s cooked. Your father’s chef has decided raw is the new rage, and I have spent wasted moments of my life attempting not to retch.”_

_Mention of her father was a blow to her spirit, but it felt like her childhood on Poseidon’s island was an entire lifetime ago. Her memories there felt as though they belonged to someone else._

_“No retching here, Perseus can smoke fish like no other.” ::_

_———_

_:: She heaved into the bushes, holding her hair at her nape and doing her best not to dirty her dress. So much for no retching. It was the fourth day she hid her illness from Perseus, but she wouldn’t mention anything to him until it was absolutely necessary. His worry and fussing over her could wait, and they would be waiting even longer with the news Athena has just delivered._

_Already feeling better, she gathered the kettle of fresh water she had excused herself to get, and returned inside. A fire burned warmly in the hearth, and Theseus napped, curled on the large cushioned bench in front of the fire. Perseus and Athena spoke in hushed tones as not to wake him._

_“Has he not learned from the last war he waged, that nothing good comes of it?” Perseus was disgusted._

_“Again it is his son who constantly poisons him and goads him to battle.”_

_Eirene refilled Athena’s glass and pulled her chair close to Perseus. He rested his hand on her knee and rubbed circles as she quickly deduced what she had missed. Triton, her blasted brother, was pushing for another war. He wanted control of not only the sea, but the beaches and gods knew what else. Humans would be slaughtered and their freedom a memory._

_“Who else stands with us against my brother’s bloated ego?”_

_Perseus’s fingers stopped at her use of “us”. “Surely there are others you can turn to in opposition of such tyranny?”_

_Athena shrugged. “You’re already invested brother. If Triton wields Poseidon’s army unopposed, they’ll control this secluded little lagoon you’ve built for yourself. His traitorous younger sister will again be under his thumb.” She continued. “Most of the divine entities that interested themselves with this region have long since fled. I have convinced our brother Hephaestus to lend a hand with supplies and armor, but if you want to continue to live free, we’ll need bodies for that armor.”_

_She and Perseus talked numbers and strategy. His career as a less than lawful sailor came in handy not only for efficient battle planning, but they would need every ship they could get. A cursed pox on Triton! She turned and watched Theseus’s chest rise and fall. How many lives would it take to quell his greed? ::_

\-----  
-Calanthe-

She waited in the café alone, sitting at a table in the corner, her guest due to arrive at any moment. She was nervous, even though she shouldn’t be, it was her own sister who was on her way to meet her. Calanthe stirred her coffee anxiously, until Tissaia walked past the large windows and entered the room. She nodded in Calanthe’s directed and ordered her coffee. 

She had fallen out of contact with her younger sister years ago, not from hurt feelings, but time and distance wore on them. They had never been terribly close as children, their five year age gap enough to keep their interests separate. The one thing they had in common as fully grown adults, was Yennefer. 

Tissaia had become pregnant at the tender age of sixteen, and her older sister had just married and settled into newlywed life. Calanthe and Eist were ready to start a family and Tissaia was certainly not, so her baby girl was very quietly adopted by her aunt and uncle. Tissaia moved to America to begin a new life, where she subsequently married, had another daughter and had since divorced Renfri’s father. Calanthe hadn’t realized she was back in London, running a successful bridal gown boutique until she walked right into it. 

She and Eist had always planned to tell Yennefer that she was adopted when she became old enough to decide for herself if she wished to spend time with her biological mother, but time passed and Tissaia never pressured them. There had always been something; riding, swimming, university, or the next big audition that kept them from wanting to upset her. It was a wonderful and convenient coincidence that Tissaia had been able to attend her daughter’s wedding and not shake her with the news of her parentage, but both sisters would have to decide how and when she would be told. 

Tissaia sat down on the chair opposite Calanthe gingerly. “Thank you for letting me come to the wedding.” She took a sip from her mug. “She’s a kindhearted and generous young woman, and I have you and Eist to thank for that.”

“It was Geralt’s idea to invite you, to ease her stress about managing the gown, but it was nice that you could be there. Renfri is stunning, the photos did her no justice, congratulations.” Tissaia accepted the praise and reciprocated in kind on Pavetta’s behalf.

“How should we tell her? I’ll warn you, she’s as stubborn as either of us, and she has to have things just so. She will react badly at the shock.” Calanthe sipped her coffee, suddenly too bitter to drink at the thought of her daughter upset. 

Tissaia offered, “Let’s do it somewhere safe then, once they’re back from their honeymoon. Invite she and Geralt home, and she’ll feel more at ease on familiar ground. Pavetta and Renfri will be impacted as well, I think they’ll feel quite betrayed. I would if I was Pavetta, she’ll feel we’re taking her sister from her.”

“They’re strong, we’ll get through this. All three of our girls are intelligent, beautiful, and as fierce and loving as mother was. I’d say we’ve done our best, sister.” Calanthe nodded at her own observation. “If for some reason Yennefer can’t come to grips?” She hoped with all her heart that Yennefer could forgive her for waiting so long to tell her.

“We’ll remain at a distance. I’ll not do anything to ruin the wonderful new life she’s just begun.” Calanthe nodded, grateful that her sister still had Yennefer’s best interests in mind over her own. “We’re hoping to add to her life, and Gods knows I’ll never try to take anything away from her. You and Eist are her parents, and she loves you so. It’ll be alright.”

\-----

_:: She watched Theseus splash in the shallow water of the lagoon, and her heart seized in her chest. Perseus would leave that night and ride farther inland gathering troops. They would take to the sea, and campaign for weeks from island to island, gathering able bodied men and women to defend their way of life against an encroaching tyrant king._

_He splashed his palms in the water, and laughed when he realized he was close enough to soak his father’s pant leg. The fishing line attached to Perseus’s rod stretch far out into the lagoon, and he sat on a flat rock near the edge to keep an eye on Theseus. Eirene pulled the last of the lavender she needed from the shrub and headed toward them, fear heavy in her heart._

_She wondered how long it would be before the three of them were together again. He would be months campaigning with Athena, and if they couldn’t prevent a war, it would be even longer. The worry that he could be hurt had already settled in her belly, as well as the horrific scenario where he never returned. He feigned a mighty growl at his soaked calf, and Theseus only giggled harder._

_Perseus slapped his big hand in the water and the resulting drips covered the little boy from head to toe. A sob wracked his little fame, until he saw Perseus’s quick smile, and he beamed as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. She laid down her herbs and her bag, her hand finding Perseus’s shoulder. “Is there room in the water for another?”_

_“Yes mama! Swim pretty!”_

_Behind Perseus’s broad back, she untied the cord that cinched her dress in the front, and let the soft fabric slide down her body. Their lagoon was secluded, and fairly deep in the center. Her underclothes joined her dress on the sandy beach, and she bent to give Theseus a kiss before she stepped forward and dove into the water. She surfaced in the center, giving a little wave before she flipped over and her shimmering white tail disappeared below the surface._

_Perseus peeled off his shirt and trousers, scooped up the boy and headed for the chest height water. She slid up his broad back and trailed kisses up the side of his neck while she tickled Theseus’s opposite arm. She swam around past them and floated to the surface, letting his curious little hand slide down her tail. Eirene dipped and surfaced again, giving his chubby cheek a kiss._

_“Mama is so beau-tiful.” He reached up and petted his hand down her wet hair._

_“Sweet boy, you are so kind.” She nuzzled her nose to his cheek. “Did papa tell you to say that?”_

_“Yes.” He smiled proudly. ::_

———  
-Yennefer-

“How was it? The mountains, the view, the sexy time?” Sabrina licked her lips suggestively and Yennefer blushed. “Damn girl, _that_ good? No, don’t tell me. Jaskier and I haven’t had a date night in two months. Don’t taunt me with my pre-baby life of sexual leisure.” She sighed heavily, but winked. 

Yennefer smiled and closed her eyes as her makeup artist dusted a subtle nude over her lids. She was happy to be back in France to film their last scenes in Marseille, but she did miss the Rockies. The big four poster bed, the kitchen table, the rug in front of the fireplace…she blushed again. 

Sabrina had just changed back into her street clothes, Athena’s scene was over. “What do you have next?” Sabrina gestured to the fact that Yennefer was still in her robe. 

“Kitchen floor.” 

“Damn girl, I hope that hubby of yours gives Eirene the ride of her life.” Her makeup artist bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Honeymoon details later? You wanna come over and work your voo doo on my baby so I can get some?”

“I thought we were watching her on Friday?” Yennefer asked, suddenly unsure of her memory. 

“You are, but a healthy sex life means happy wife.” She chirped.

“Hey what about _my_ healthy sex life then?”

“Hun, you’re about to go hump your husband for hours and get paid for it, I don’t wanna hear it!”

\------  
-Geralt-

He pulled on Perseus’s trousers and felt comfort at the familiar, scratchy feeling they gave against his legs. Not only had he worn them for two season’s worth of filming, but they had given him his whole life. He wound the laces skillfully, the leather cord bobbing and weaving past his fingers. Those pants, this role, had changed his life forever. They helped him become more of the man he wanted to be. Well, he had to admit it was the woman who _unlaced_ them that made him a better person. 

Kosmos rolled around in the bedding to his right, their pup now his full size and quite the giant teddy bear. It killed him to admit it, but though he loved them both, his dog favored his wife. His thick tail thumped happily as he watched Geralt dress. _His_ trailer had become _theirs_ , and he did not miss the quiet. 

His better half was breathtaking, and when she entered the trailer behind him, he was reminded yet again of his good fortune. Even in her dressing robe she would outshine any fashion model, any princess or first lady. It was his opinion, but in that trailer it was all that mattered. 

“I’m dressed.” She quipped with a smile, she wouldn’t be wearing anything other than skin tight nude shorts in their scene. She ran her fingers up the back of his tunic. “I’ve missed Perseus, he does this trick with his fingers that just brings me to my knees.” 

He turned and wound his hands inside her robe, lifting her up on the countertop. “He does, does he?” His lips hovered over hers, her quick breaths ghosting across his. She hummed and his tongue slipped past her lips, her hands coming to weave into his once again dark blond hair. “Not fair Yen, to get me all hot and horny right before we shoot.” He followed her lips still, despite his words.

“I like you hot and horny.” Her grin tested his will not to untie the laces he just secured and take her right there on the countertop. “Besides,” his palms cupped her breasts underneath the robe, “I think it’ll give you an edge on getting into character. Perseus is always so eager and attentive when my husband is struggling not to finish in front of twenty people.”

He made a pained sound from the back of his throat and she preened, sliding her hands down to frame his face and capture his lips once again. 

———

_:: The fire in the hearth burned low, Theseus off to bed up in their loft, unaware that his father wouldn’t be there when he woke. His mother was all too aware of it, and she wasted not one moment of her time with him._

_Tendrils of long, dark hair clung to the damp skin of her back as the muscles underneath rolled and churned. She rode him slowly but with purpose, the strokes of her body deep and thorough, as though she was trying to memorize every inch of him. The big room was dark but for the glow of the fire, and it illuminated the delicate sheen of sweat on their skin._

_He laid back on the thick blanket, strong hands running up her sides and over her breasts, neither willing to break the intense gaze held between violet and gold. Her voice was a whisper, but it rang clear in his ears. “You will return to us.” She didn’t change her pace, but slid her hand from his chest to cover his jaw._

_“I will.” He reached up to drag his thumb over her plump lips. “And you and he will be safe.” He shifted his hips to rock with her._

_“We will.” She emphasized her vow with a squeeze of her muscles and he groaned in pleasure. Finally her rigid control broke and their hips came together faster and with more force. She squeezed her eyes shut, jaw agape against the sensations his hand wrought between their bodies. He bent his knees for purchase and she hooked her feet under them, his hand on her slim waist tightening._

_Her eyes flew open and her movements stopped, his powerful thrusts rocking her over the edge. She trembled silently, her eyes dark with passion and her fingers deep in his biceps. He clutched at the supple skin of her rear, the force of his climax leaving prints on her pale flesh. He hugged her tightly to him as they fought for breath, her forehead pressed to his cheek._

_He lifted her head when he felt wet on his neck. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and he swiped them away. She was remembering his bloody body on the sand in the last battle they’d been in. He hushed her and squeezed her close. She pleaded against his ear, “Don’t leave me. Come back to us.” ::_

———  
-Yennefer-

Jaskier loved his new megaphone far too much. Someone had given it to him as a joke, but he took to his new volume swimmingly. “Alright Thornwalds, we’re looking for lots of passion. Perseus is about to hit the road into certain danger, and yet again leave his family hanging. Yenna, don’t be afraid to be aggressive, they’re an old married couple now and she’s gotta keep his interest, if you know what I mean.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes but Yennefer only nodded. Salma took her robe and left them in only her nude panties and his sock. Yennefer was perched on his lap, her knees straddled around his hips and resting in the soft blanket he laid on. She leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m a big star now baby, so you’ll just have to lay there and take it.” He would have loved to make her earn her words, but Jaskier called for attention and the cameras began rolling. 

Her sultry grin faded and Yennefer’s features relaxed as she began to roll her hips over his and lost herself in the moment. She focused on his face, tapping into the flood of melancholy emotions that swirled around Eirene as she would once again lose her love for some time. They paused and one of the assistants hurried over to spray a fine mist of faux perspiration over her back and down Geralt’s chest. The cool glycerin broke gooseflesh across her skin and his hand slid through it as he covered her breast.

His eyes were endless golden pools below her, equally lost in character at the prospect of leaving her. He moved underneath her and she closed her eyes, bringing herself into their actual bedroom, remembering the feel of him heavy and strong between her thighs. He steadied her waist and moved to meet her. She cupped his face and he turned to kiss her palm, the passion between them filling the room with palpable desperation. 

Her jaw fell and he propped his legs for leverage, neither noticing the cameras gliding around them. Jaskier gave the signal for their finish but neither heard, instead feeling their way through the moment when she shivered and eased forward into his waiting arms. Her tears painted his neck with Eirene’s sorrow and he tucked her close to his cheek. 

“Awe yeah! I’m going to be up for an Emmy. Fame, fortune, and corruption, here I come!” Jaskier leaned back and checked the angle of the feed on his monitor. “That’ll do it, thank you!” The crew began to pull away from the set and prepare for the next scene, while Yennefer relaxed in Geralt’s arms.

“You suffering my spicy shrimp?” She dried her tears but didn’t leave his lap, a soft smile on her face. 

His answering voice was gritty. “You know very well that I am.” He shifted underneath her and she gasped, his erection insistent through the thin modesty garments they wore. 

Salma came forward with robes for both of them and Yennefer tugged his closed as they rose from the floor. They only had ten or fifteen minutes before she was needed for her next scene and she tugged him behind her, his hand in hers. “Come along, we’ve only got a few minutes and I don’t plan to waste them.” Salma knew better than to follow as he chased after her, grabbing for her derrière once they turned the corner. 

\------

:: _Eirene waited three months before she went after him. She knew she would from the start, but the letter she awaited had finally arrived. He and Athena had the men they needed, and the ships to get them to Poseidon’s island. They would head off his army and save the mortal communities the devastation. Marcellus had stayed behind to make sure she and Theseus were safe, and even though he hadn’t voiced it, she knew Perseus could not stand to see the young man die on the battlefield._

_Icarus, his wife, and their three month old daughter were hale and healthy and more than willing to look after Theseus and Marcellus. They remained close friends, and Icarus knew better than to argue with her to stay behind. They both knew all too well what happened the last time he’d gone to battle without her. Theseus was more than happy to adventure with Marcellus and stay in the blacksmith’s home, having been around them all his life. When he realized she wasn’t just at the market there would be tears, but he would thrive until she and Perseus returned._

_She packed the last of her bag, the dry herbs in jars and knowing her one pair of clothes and leather armor would simply travel wet. The kink in her plan had been her swollen belly. She hadn’t told him before he left intentionally, knowing he would only worry and be distracted over her wellbeing._

_She’d been trained to fight at an early age, unbeknownst to Poseidon, and sparring with Marcellus for months had her skills honed and sharp. She had to stop to vomit occasionally at the beginning, but the young man was impressed with her nonetheless. Of course he thought her training sanctioned by Perseus and that his sweet wife would have no reason to lie._

_Her armor pieces were adjustable, and and easily hid her condition. They would for another month or two, and she hoped to be home in as many weeks. She knew she was taking a risk now that she was carrying, but she could not let men die alone in her fight. She would stand with her husband against her brother and father whether he liked it or not._

_She slipped off her dress and rolled it neatly, hiding it under a large rock just outside the reach of the tide. If Perseus was so mad at her that she had to swim back home, she would have something suitable to argue with him in when she arrived. She slipped into the tranquil water, her bag secured to her back and her dagger in it’s sheath. She prayed for a bitter argument, one that required them both to be breathing and healthy enough to yell. ::_

\-----  
-Geralt-

“You ready Yen?” Geralt shouted up the stairs as Kosmos circled his feet. He knew they were leaving and he was likely destined for his crate. It was more a small condominium in their kitchen, oversized and lined with plush blankets and soft pillows, but the last person to question Yennefer on it’s extravagance had surely regretted it. 

It had been just over two months since they returned from their honeymoon, and they’d scarcely left the house, or their French condo. The paparazzi had been hovering especially close, as it seemed they were twice as sought after now that they were married. It was likely they wanted to be the first to claim they had evidence of trouble in paradise.  
  
Unfortunately for the tabloid press, his life _was_ paradise at that very moment. The reason for his smile came down the staircase in a pair of fitted purple jeans, short little brown boots and a creme colored sweater that hugged her so well that he thought the designer deserved an award. He knew though, that it was less the sweater and more the fierce wit and beautiful soul underneath that put him off balance. 

“It’s going to be weird going home when I’m not a Giancardi any longer.” She stepped between his feet and the dog whined for her attention. She scratched her nails lightly through his thick coat and his tail thumped loudly on the floor with affection. 

“You’re still one of them, but you’re also a Thornwald.” He wrapped his hands around her sides and she sighed into his arms.

“Is that why I’m so horny? The curse of horny Thorny?” 

His deep laugh echoed in the foyer and her free hand applied gentle pressure to the fly of his jeans. Suddenly things were not so funny, and he didn’t give a shit if they were late to her parent’s picnic. The twinkle in her eye gave him the permission he needed to slide his hands down and cradle the globes of her shapely rear. She pulled the button on his jeans and guided his zipper down carefully, her freshly glossed lips curling into a wicked smile. 

Geralt pulled her up into his arms and she curled her legs around his hips eagerly. Kosmos sighed, as though he was fed up with the constant tumbling of his humans, which inevitably meant he would be ignored for a few minutes. “Sorry boy, but I need to eh, talk, to mama for just a minute.” He looked around to find the closest door they could hide behind and he strode toward the washroom off the foyer. It just might have been the only place int he house they hadn’t fucked in, lacking a shower and close proximity to their bedroom. 

She gave a pitiful little moan against his ear, “Only just a minute?”

He walked her inside the little room, tastefully re-appointed in warm grays and lilacs, and turned to shut the door behind him. He pressed her back against the heavy wooden door without warning, capturing her lips in a forceful kiss. She returned in kind, nipping and nibbling her way from one side of his mouth to the other while she reached to the front of her own jeans and unfastened them quickly. 

They made love slow and sensual, tender and caring, but he knew she favored a quick romp just as much. She delighted when she was in control of their encounter, but equally so when she urged him to a bit rougher of an embrace. He was just as flustered for her as she was for him, and it hadn’t boded well for them being on time as of late. 

She reached down into his jeans, the loose material of his boxers giving easy and he grunted when she wrapped her warm palm around his cock. Just a few minutes ago he’d been calm, and her immediate and heady effect on him was embarrassingly obvious. He felt the wet heat of her folds and he released her lip, driving his hips upward into bliss he hadn’t known until her. Her shaken cry echoed on the marble tile behind them and he groaned at the tight hug of her muscles. 

Her thighs pulled and squeezed around his waist, urging him on, her hands running under the collar of his polo shirt greedily. “Geralt,” the door rattled behind her, “ _harder_.” Her wanton moan was his reward as he snapped his hips and groaned himself. She slipped her hand between them to rub circles over her clit, the other digging into his shoulder to keep from slipping from his grip. 

Yennefer hummed and then swore, laying her tender cheek to his rough one and closed her eyes against the pleasure. “Oh, _God_ , come with me, _Geralt._ ”

He pulled her away from the door suddenly, hoping to delay her climax. She startled and grabbed onto his neck, her gasp trapped against his lips when he captured hers and set her down on the countertop. It took all he had in him to pull from her warm body and kneel on the tile, her knees resting on his shoulders as he nuzzled closer to her core and shifting her jeans down. 

She leaned back, gripping the edge of the sink as the scruff of his short beard brushed against her delicate skin. She hissed and panted when his tongue began to paint broad strokes across her folds. She watched him in the floor length mirror she and her mother found at an antique shop, thrilling at the naughty image it now held. 

He found her clit cautiously, trying to draw out her pleasure, while he couldn’t resist wrapping his hand around his now neglected cock. She moaned when she saw the reflection of him touching himself, tightening her calves over his back and pulling him closer. 

He added suction to her clit and she tossed her head back, her nails dragging along his scalp in time with the rising volume of her moans. “ _Geralt_ ,” she warned, hovering over the edge. He released her with a soft kiss and she tugged on his shirt, hurrying him back up her body. 

He wrapped an arm around her back and hid his nose in her hair, the other hand running the head of his cock along her folds. She reached for him desperately and he murmured over the shell of her ear, “Patience, wife.” He jerked his hips and buried himself to the hilt abruptly, tearing a deep groan from his own mouth and setting off her fierce climax.

Yennefer was silent, but her back arched under his splayed hand. He moved slowly against the pull of her body until he couldn’t hold back any longer, his rapid thrusts spilling his warm release with a heady grunt, urgency melting to blissful relief. He came back to her and realized she still hadn’t said a word, her knees trembling and her lashes shut tightly. 

“Jesus, you’re still?” A shaky whine was her only response, and he moved again slowly until he felt her shoulders sag and her knees fell from high on his sides. He leaned back to make sure she was alright, but the color on her cheeks and the soft grin on her face were enough to reassure him.

She leaned against his chest, unable to hold herself upright. “Well,” he pondered, running his hands through her ebony curls, “I suppose that makes every room in the house.”

“No,” her censure was languid and satiated, “the pantry and the linen closet.”

“Yen, we’ll break our backs.”

She grinned at her reflection in the mirror. “Get creative old man, because I am not a quitter.” 

\------

-Yennefer-

She relaxed into the familiar seat of Geralt’s Corvette, the worn leather of the old car unique and comforting, both feelings she associated with the driver himself. She wound her arm around his as he backed out of their garage, the loud rumble of the engine calming her too often worried mind. The black wrought iron gate rumbled open and the drivers of two shiny SUVs started their engines. 

She sighed heavily and he leaned to kiss her cheek. They had been relentless, snapping pictures and shouting questions every where either of them went. They pulled out onto the street, “Want me to lose ‘em baby?” 

She grinned and released his arm so he could put both hands on the wheel. Geralt took a quick turn and both SUVs began to follow closer. A few unpredictable turns and evasions later he lost one of the vehicles, focusing in on the last one. They sat idling at a red light for a moment when he reached down to make sure her seat belt was properly latched. 

“Hang on.” The light turned green and he floored the gas pedal, shooting across the intersection like a rocket before rapidly pulling into a tightly woven development. She lost track of the twists and turns he took before they emerged on the other side, sans any tail cars. Yennefer settled back against his shoulder with a grin, falling asleep shortly after. 

\------

“Can I help with anything mom?”

Yennefer and Pavetta sat on bar stools in Calanthe’s kitchen, watching as she assembled her famous potato salad. “Sure, you can see what the guys want to drink, I’m sure they’ll be famished after all that standing around the grill and talking about nothing.” 

Yennefer got up and pulled a beer from the fridge and poured a tall glass of lemonade. At Calanthe’s questioning look she answered, “The two men I know best in the world, I should be able to predict what they’d want to drink.” She gave her mother a wink and walked out through the sliding glass doors to deliver the beverages. 

Eist reached for his lemonade and Geralt took his beer, the chicken sizzling on the grill behind them. They heard another car pull around in the drive, and Pavetta joined them, a beer in her hand. Yennefer raised her brow questioningly, and she defended her drink, “Dad lets me.” 

Eist shrugged, “With you gone, I’ve lost all control around here.”

Yennefer shook her head, “What control?” He smiled, it was no mystery that the Giancardi women made their own decisions. “I’m going to see who’s here, I’ll be back.” She gave Geralt a kiss and walked back toward the kitchen, pausing when she slid the door part way open. 

Tissaia, the seamstress who made her wedding gown, was standing in her mother’s kitchen. It had been over two months since her wedding, what on earth was she doing there? She heard their conversation before she could help it.

“I don’t know how to tell her either, there’s no handbook for telling someone they’re adopted. They’re married now, she has stability and support to help her accept me in her life.”

Calanthe felt the breeze and turned to the door. The color drained from her face. “Yenna, how long have you been standing there?”

Yennefer stepped into the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind her. “Who?”

“Yenna,” she tried.

It was unlike her mother to hesitate, to be uncertain. “Who just got married, and needs to accept that she’s adopted?” Yennefer held her breath, and Calanthe faltered. “Mom?”

Calanthe tipped her head to the side and bit her lip. Yennefer leaned against the island heavily, her gaze shifting rapidly to Tissaia. 

“Yennefer, I’m so sorry to shock you, but I’m your biological mother.” Tissaia’s voice was caring, sympathy to Yennefer’s plight in her tone. “I became pregnant at sixteen, and my older sister and her new husband adopted my child, to give her everything I couldn’t. I know this will come as a terrible upset, but we all wanted the very best for you. I never stopped loving you, and neither will your parents.” 

Yennefer’s jaw dropped, but no words came for the longest time. A deep, hollow feeling began in her chest, born of betrayal and rejection. Her mind began to race, childhood memories of growing up with her loving parents by her side began to feel like a mockery. It simply couldn’t be true. Her father had always said she was special to them. A beautiful gift that made their family whole. She thought he meant from god, not the woman standing in her mother’s kitchen, tears gathering in her own eyes. 

She couldn’t look at the woman a moment longer. She spun on her heel, “I’m sorry, I need to be alone for a minute.” Her voice warbled and Calanthe reached for her. She stepped to the side to evade her arms, her ' _I’m sorry'_ laden with tears.

Yennefer walked down the hall, and ran up the stairs once they couldn’t see her any longer. She stepped inside the threshold of her bedroom and stopped short, catching her breath. She grew up in that room thinking her doting parents slept just down the hall. It had all been a lie. There were photos of Calanthe and Eist holding her as a newborn in the hospital, how could she have known she wasn’t theirs? She didn’t belong. 

She couldn’t look for another second. She closed the door behind her, suddenly feeling nauseous. She headed for the hallway bathroom, and passed Pavetta’s bedroom. A sob broke free when she realized that Pavetta wasn’t even her sister. She ran the rest of the way, locking the door behind her and leaning back against the washroom wall.

Her reflection taunted her. Of course, how could she have such dark hair and tanned skin when her sister had such a fair completion and platinum hair. It was so obvious to her now. She leaned against the sink, trying to pull in deep, calming breaths. Her whole life was a lie, and everyone probably knew, but her. They pitied her, a poor, unwanted, cast off baby. God, Calanthe had been so overwhelmingly happy when Pavetta was born, and it was no wonder, she finally had a daughter. 

Yennefer barely made it to the toilet in time, the force of her heaving finally pushing the tears past her lashes. She retched until there was nothing left in her to give. She flushed the toilet and laid her head on the floor, Calanthe’s soft ivory bathmat running black with her mascara as the tears ran as fast as her mind. 

That _woman_ , that fucking seamstress. If she had only chosen somewhere else to buy her dress, this never would have happened. Her thinking was completely irrational, but her mind moved faster than reason could catch up with. She heard heavy footsteps in the hall, recognizing Eist’s even stride even through the door. 

He knocked softly. “Yenna, baby, are you alright?”

 _Baby_. She wasn’t his baby, she wasn’t his anything. She wasn’t his little girl, and she wasn’t sure she would ever be alright again. 

“I’m fine,” she lied, not bothering to lift her head. “I’m just touching up my makeup, be down in just a minute. 

“I know when you’re lying Raven. I’m here when you’re ready.” 

She clamped her eyes shut at the use of his pet name for her. He lied to her, telling her she was his daughter all these years. She sat up, her movements robotic and thoughtless. She clicked the lock on the door and opened it slowly, her tormented gaze meeting his uncertain one. 

“You’re not my dad.” Her words were feather soft, but the hurt showed on his face as though she had screamed them. 

“I’m your father in every way that matters, and I aways will be. Nothing has to change sweetie, but Tissaia and Renfri are there, if you wish to add them to your life. No one will force anything on you.” 

Renfri. Jesus, she had barely talked to the girl, and they were half sisters. “Who is he?” Her voice broke and Eist leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. 

“I met him once, before she found out she was pregnant with you. He came to dinner at your grandparent’s house, but as to who or where he is, you’ll have to ask her.”

She pulled back from his shoulder, “I don’t want to find him, I don’t want to meet him.” She jumped at the chance to leave Eist the only father in her life. 

“That’s just fine. I’m here, and I’ll never give up my little raven.” He wiped at the wet trails that marred her cheeks. 

“I don’t want to see them yet.”

“Alright, we’ll miss you for dinner, but I understand. Geralt?” he called behind him. “He’s been pacing in the kitchen like a caged bear. Go home and rest, but please don’t wait too long to call mom, she loves you so much.” 

They heard Geralt’s quick jog up the stairs and she nodded. “Give her a kiss for me.”

Geralt came around the door frame, worry clear on his face. Eist patted him on the arm before heading back to the kitchen to tell his wife that their daughter needed time. 

Geralt didn’t miss a beat, pulling her close. She tucked her face against his neck and inhaled his scent while he rubbed her back. His polo shirt smelled cleanly of detergent, but underneath, a hint of Old Spice and the manly smell that was just _Geralt_. For some reason, she could not get enough of it. 

“It’ll be alright love, your mom told me.” He mouthed soft kisses against her forehead. 

“Which one?” She tried to joke, but her voice was still unsteady. “I guess I’m not really a Giancardi at all.”

“You are. Your dad will never let you go. Hell, he threatened to come after me if I ever hurt you, he’s not going anywhere. Your mom’s blood runs through your veins the same as if you were hers. Our future daughters will be just as smart, and opinionated, and wonderful as their grandma.” 

She tipped her head back to look at him, her eyes watery once again. “I love you so damned much.” Her lip wobbled when she spoke, and he lowered his hands to rub circles on her hips. 

“Not half as much as I do Yennefer.”

\------

: _: Sneaking along the shoreline and keeping watch for her father’s sentries was not the way she had imagined returning to the place she once called home. She lost her innate ability to find the ever moving island when Perseus was saved, but she followed his fleet into the small inlet on the far side of the island. No doubt Athena directed them, and with her skill and cunning, they avoided detection._

  
_Eirene checked the beach for guards, and when the coast was clear she sprinted across the sand and disappeared into the tree line. The sun was beginning to set, and she guessed they would begin the march through the thick woods at sunrise. They didn’t dare build fires, lest the smoke give away their presence._

  
_She crept through the shadowy camp unnoticed, the men were too worked up about the upcoming battle to notice a lithe figure slinking between their tents. She swiped a pair of boots from a man who had two, and a crust of bread from a giant of a man who looked like he could spare it and the next ten loaves. Perseus should have been in the center of the encampment, protected, yet she found him propped against the base of a thick three._

  
_It was clear he had no intention of sleeping that night, and she barely recognized him with three months worth of beard covering his face. His hair was getting long again, she needed to trim it up when they got home. She longed to touch him, but she didn’t dare get too close. He could always tell when she was near, perfume or not._

  
_He looked up suddenly, senses alert, whetstone and dagger frozen in his hands. She froze, her breath held in her chest. If he found her, he would certainly lock her away on his ship until the battle was through and the death toll was crippling. Her brother may have been a lost cause, but if she could speak to Poseidon she might be able to convince him to give up his power hungry course._

  
_The stone slid along his dagger once again, his head bowed. If the gods allowed, she would be back in his arms by the next sunset. ::_

  
\------  
-Yennefer-

Kosmos was as accustomed to flying as he was riding in the car by the time they wrapped filming in France, and boarded a plane to Warsaw, Poland. They were set to film the majority of season three’s heavy hitting battle scenes in the Puszca Biala, or White Forest. They would rent a flat on the same floor of a posh apartment building as Jaskier and Sabrina. Cerys was attending school, so Kosmos would be with them on set. 

The studio owned a jet, and she was grateful that they could use it to fly back to London when they needed to, the flight a little more than two hours. Their home away from home was cozy, and their bedroom boasted an impressive eastern exposure that she found perfect for drawing in the morning. 

Images flowed from her fingers faster than they had in years, but it wasn’t long before she realized they were all of her childhood. A portrait of the horse she rode to a blue ribbon victory, and a sketch from Pavetta’s massive bookshelf in her father’s den. She’d doodled a floral pattern down the sides of the page, only to recognize the flowers on her mother’s favorite sweater. She wasn’t sure she even deserved the wonderful memories of the blessed life they had afforded her. 

———

-Eskel-

Even for her small stature, Yennefer’s athletic build would save her in Eirene’s battle scenes. She and his brother were back from their honeymoon only a day or two before she approached him in search of some additional training. She pushed herself hard, and he could see in her the same level of dedication Geralt held for his roles.

His brother wasn’t a morning person, and was likely snoring away with that mountain of a dog, while his little wife whirled across his padded mats, her faux dagger hammering into the practice dummies he lined up to mimic the other fighters in the scene. He didn’t understand Phil’s disdain for Yennefer, he quite liked her. 

She knew the choreography for the long battle scene well by that day, but something was off about her movements. Her lunges weren’t as deep, the impact of her weapon not as harsh. She spun around one of the dummies in pirouette, but she broke sequence to bend over and catch her breath. 

“Are you alright Yennefer?” He took the dagger from her hand, but before she could respond she covered her mouth and ran for the restroom. He cringed when the sounds of her vomit reached his ears in the quiet gym. 

He began to put away their equipment, and she was confused when she returned. “I’m sorry, did I gross you out? I feel better, I can keep going.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I was going to offer to take you to a walk in, or I can have Geralt come get you.”

She shook her head. “It’s nerves, anxiety. I found out some rather unsettling news last week, and ever since then I just don’t feel right until I puke my heart out every day. I’m fine, really.” 

“Let me run you to a walk in, we’ll be gone only an hour, and I’ll be able to clear you. For the safety of the rest of the crew.” It was bullshit, but even if it was only anxiety making her sick, she needed help. A few more weeks as she was going and she wouldn’t have the energy to hold the dagger in the air. 

She understood, allowing him to walk her to his rental car. She thought he was trying to prevent the flu from spreading, but he wondered to himself if his brother would regret sleeping in that morning.

———

Eskel waited in the empty waiting room, they were so early in the morning that they were the only ones in the building other than the staff. He was beginning to get worried, they’d been there over an hour already. The doors she had disappeared through opened abruptly and she came to sit next to him, zipping up her purse. 

“We can go in just a minute, they’ll have the bloodwork back soon. Just an extra precaution, I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long.” She checked her phone and he could see it was clear of incoming messages.

“I made you come, I can’t complain.” He offered.

It was only a few minutes before the physician came into the waiting room and offered to take her back. “The legal stuff is fine, he’s family.” Eskel smirked, all business and no time for bull, just like Geralt.

When the doctor was done speaking, he handed her a few pamphlets and she took them with trembling hands. She stared past him toward the ceiling, as though she couldn’t hear his well wishes and Eskel’s promise to see her home. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here for this, this was Geralt’s job. “Alright sis, let’s get you home. We’re done sparring for the day.” She let him help her stand and guide her through the double doors. When the fall breeze blew across her face and he held the car door open for her, she finally broke from her shock and spoke.

“I’ve ruined his life. How could this happen?!” She leaned heavily against the car door. 

“Is it his?” 

“What?”

“Did you cheat on my brother?” If she wasn’t so upset, he would find the absence of her normally articulate wit funny.

“What? Of course not, I would _never_.” She looked at him, scandalized. 

He smiled, “Then I’m fairly sure you haven’t ruined his life. Get in Sis, I’m not the one you want to talk to.”

———  
-Geralt-

The doorbell rang in their flat, and Geralt set aside the spatula he was using to flip her favorite chocolate chip pancakes. She’s been gone a long time that morning and he knew she’d be starving when she returned. His own pancakes were cinnamon, hers far too sweet for his liking. 

He opened the door, and was surprised to see his brother, and a very pale looking Yennefer. “What happened?” His heart sank, she’d hurt herself, worked too hard. 

“She’s alright, but I drove her back. Her car and her keys are at the gym.”

Yennefer walked inside and Kosmos followed close on her heels, settling on the couch next to her. She sat on the cushions stiffly, her back rigid. Geralt thanked him, confused about the grin Eskel leveled his way before he shut the door. He turned the stove off, moving the pan of pancakes so they wouldn’t burn. 

“Yen, what’s going on?” He sat on the coffee table, his hands on her knees and worry on his face. When she looked up, he got even more worried. 

She sighed, regretfully beginning her explanation. “Since the picnic at my parents, I haven’t felt well. I thought it was nerves and anxiety about what happened.” He swallowed hard, leaning closer, waiting for the bad news. “I’ve been throwing up, but I feel better after so I knew it wasn’t the flu.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He ran his hands up and down her leggings and her back relaxed. 

“You have enough on your plate, there wasn’t anything you could do.”

“I could have been there with you.” He flashed his ring. “This means you can come to me with anything, always. God knows I lean on you plenty.” 

“Geralt, I’m so sorry,” she rushed the rest, “I’m pregnant.” She searched his face for anger and disappointment. 

His hands stopped moving on her legs. 

“I don’t know how, I mean, I don’t think I’ve missed a pill, I - “

“You are? I mean, we are?” He was slowly comprehending her words.

“It was only one test, maybe it was wrong.” 

“We’re having a baby?” The more tortured she appeared, the more wonder filled his voice. Suddenly he jerked up off of the coffee table and crushed his body to hers. He straightened, bringing her with him, finally realizing that she wasn’t hugging him back. He leaned and searched her face, “You’re not happy?”

“It’s so soon, I thought...I thought you’d be angry. We have plans, commitments, this will throw a wrench into some of that.” 

“Angry? Are you kidding me, we’re having a baby.” The look of sheer joy on his face began to melt through her fear. “What’s bothering you? Whatever it is, we can postpone it.” He pressed his forehead to hers, “Yen,” he watched her expression carefully, “a little baby.” His whisper broke through her hesitation and she wrapped her arms around his back. 

Geralt kissed her, the relief her announcement brought when he expected to hear she was sick, coursing through his veins. He could feel the smile begin to form on her lips and excitement built deep in his chest. He picked her up, hands firm on the back of her thighs, and Yennefer slid her hands up to his neck. He walked a few paces from the table and spun her in a circle, a wide grin on his face when she pulled away to laugh. Kosmos kept an eye from the couch, used to the peculiar dances his humans did when they were together.

“Let’s go to a _real_ doctor, together.” He proposed. “Then you’ll have your proof one way or another, and I won’t be home making stupid pancakes when you needed me.” 

“Geralt, it wasn’t planned, Eskel forced me to go. I’m sorry I kept not feeling well from you, but I promise I wouldn’t have gone without you if I had any idea.” She laid a soft, apologetic kiss to the corner of his mouth and he chased hers, an understanding hum in his chest. 

“Aright, I need to get dressed.” He began walking her to the bedroom, no intention of putting her down. “What do you think is more _dad_ -like? Khakis? Yeah, and a polo - oh, plaid. That screams dad.” 

“Did you say there were pancakes?” 

He abruptly changed directions back to the kitchen, Kosmos again interested at the prospect of food.

———

-Yennefer-

They ended up waiting until the weekend and flying back to London to see Yennefer’s doctor. They didn’t tell even their parents that they were home, and Geralt rented a car at the airport. By the time the news of their presence reached the paparazzi, they would be back on a flight to Warsaw. 

Yennefer rolled her leggings back over her stomach and pulled her coat on. Her doctor had stepped out to let her dress. She buttoned the coat up slowly, a smile on her face as she watched him hunched over in the chair next to her, running his finger over the strip of black and white photos in his hand. 

“Didn’t waste any time did you, the honeymoon?” Her snarky tone pulled his gaze from the pictures and he smirked, holding his arms open for her as she stepped between his feet. 

“I guess that cold mountain air got to this old man.” 

She laughed out loud at the dopey look on his face, tipping her chin down and receiving his kiss. He nudged his nose to hers, “I love you so fucking much.” The short beard he sported for Perseus tickled the soft skin of her cheeks. 

“I love you too.” Her eyes softened, thinking of the way they had both teared when the sound of their baby’s heartbeat had filled the small room. 

“You’re alright with this?” He hadn’t forgotten the fear and uncertainly she felt when she told him she was pregnant.

She nodded. “What does it matter if it’s now, or a year or two from now? Eirene’s pregnant, it actually works out. We’ll be in between seasons when he or she is born, and neither of us have signed on for anything major for next year. There’s our Scotland trip, will your parents be upset if we don’t make it?”

“What if we move it up, go sooner? Your mother could plan your baby shower as a destination event.”

She shook her head, smirk on her lips. “You are even more her lackey than my father. It’s no wonder she loves you so much.” Things had been tense with Yennefer and her parents for a bit as she came to grips with their news. She still spoke with her mother often over the phone, but it seemed like something would be forever changed in their relationship. 

“It’s a healthy fear and respect I have for her, my survival instinct.” He noticed her far off look. “You invite only who you want, and we’ll fly them up there.” 

She gathered her purse and he held the door for her as they walked to the reception desk to schedule their next appointment, the photos held delicately in his big hand. She turned back to him as the woman took her cards, “Will I finally get to see you and your dad in your kilts?”

“You got it baby. Eskel too, all three of us in our kilts in the dead of winter, just for you.” 

———

_:: The first sword clanged before she could even get to the front line of the battle. She came from the trees, her stolen boots cracking through the underbrush, wild ebony hair streaming behind her as she ran. One of Triton’s spies must have detected them, and the full force of Poseidon’s army bore down on Athena’s men._

  
_Shouts and screams of agony greeted the first rays of sunlight over the horizon. She entered the fray, ducking to avoid a wicked looking mace swung by a giant of a man. She pulled a bloody broadsword from the grass, it’s owner’s eyes glassy and bloodshot. She ran, using the sword to parry an occasional blow as she made her way to the center of the conflict. Her medicine bag rode against her leg, the little jars clanging against the leather armor pieces._

  
_Triton’s massive frame came into view and she called out, “Triton! Stop this!” She recognized one of her sister’s husbands, and she stared for a moment as an arrow made brutal contact with his eye socket and he dropped to the ground. She looked frantically for her father, but a thin man with mahogany red hair filled her field of vision. He lunged abruptly and she simply darted out of his way. “Brother!”_

  
_She spun past another dueling pair, and Perseus’s bellow roared through the woods and shook her to the core. He knew she was there. It mattered not, she found what she needed. “Triton, please!” He dispatched his last opponent and turned to her with a nasty smile._

  
_“Eirene, how good of you to join the dead.” He raised his heavy sword high, intent on bringing it down on her head, when the red haired man appeared from behind her and sliced the back of the thigh open from her hip to her knee._

  
_She screamed in pain and dropped to her knee. Still she tried, pleading with him. “Please stop this, there’s no need to kill so many innocent people!” She began to waver, blood pouring down her leg and dizziness threatening to take her._

  
_Perseus hacked through the combatants between them like a man possessed. Blood covered his face and soaked his beard, but he paid no heed, driving closer to the source of her shrill scream. He arrived just in time to find her bloody healing bag, and he looked up to see her limp form slung over Triton’s massive back, a hundred yards away._

  
_“Eirene!” He shouted, confusion and terror gripping his insides. He followed after them, but the sea of men parted for Triton and closed in on him in a hail of fists and pain. “Eirene!” ::_

  
———  
-Geralt-

The dog had become so protective of her, that they had to bribe him with treats in order for Yennefer to leave the flat. Geralt set him up with a handful of steak tips in their bedroom while she snuck into the hallway. He pulled the door shut and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his breath warm on her ear. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. 

It had been enough that they were newlyweds, but her pregnancy had him tied up in excited knots. He didn’t realize how much he wanted a child, a little boy or girl with her dark curls and the soft, beautiful facial features he couldn’t live without. He couldn’t picture proposing to another woman before her, forget the happy anticipation of the birth of their child. The gentle curve of her belly was just noticeable, and yet he could scarce be a room apart from her. 

She slept against his shoulder on their flight to London, his mother’s dinner party as good an opportunity as any to share their happy news. Eskel obviously knew, but they hadn’t told anyone else, other than Jaskier and Sabrina. They had to make a few arrangements in the film schedule to accommodate some doctor’s appointments, and bring in a stunt double to assist with a few of Eirene’s scenes. Yennefer completed most of the fighting herself, trusting Eskel’s knowledge to keep her safe, but a double was needed for Eirene’s ride on Triton’s shoulder and a tumble she would take. 

He tried to give her space and keep his fussing to a minimum, because he knew that once the press found out their secret, it would be the end of any peace they could claim. He was already mentally kicking himself in the ass for the way he drove with her in the car. He banished the terrible _what ifs_ and put his magazine back in the pouch in front of him. He took her hand, bringing it to his lips, her slumber uninterrupted and well deserved. 

\------

No one said a word when Yennefer declined Clarissa’s offer of a glass of red wine, and he squeezed her hand under the table. Never one to be outdone, his mother’s table setting was elegant and formal, and he was glad they chose to dress up. Yennefer’s sleek black dress was a flattering cut on her lithe body, and cleverly hid the barely there bump. 

They sat across from Eskel and Philippa, his father to Yennefer’s right, and his mother to his left at opposite ends of the table. Griffin was the cook between the two of his parents, and his roast duck seemed only reserved for special occasions. Yennefer’s stomach had been touchy, but she ate with gusto, and he was relieved. His mother’s behavior had been less than welcoming toward her, downright nasty, and he hoped she had seen the error of her ways. 

They made small talk until it was time to clean off the table, and Geralt stopped his father before he stood. “We ah, have an announcement.” He cleared his throat and tried to temper his smile. “We’re pregnant, the baby is due in early May.” 

He squeezed Yennefer’s hand again and everything happened at once. Griffin nearly toppled his chair over to come and congratulate them, his sights set on giving Yennefer a big hug. Eskel cheered, happy to finally be able to speak freely about his secret. Clarissa’s jaw dropped, and Philippa burst into tears.

Geralt’s father pulled him in with his free arm, his “Congratulations, son,” heartfelt and sincere. Yennefer looked beyond his shoulder to see Clarissa rush over and join Eskel in trying to calm Philippa. 

“It’s alright honey, she didn’t mean to be so cruel.” Clarissa patted Phlippa’s arm while she sobbed dramatically into Eskel’s shoulder. 

“What’s going on, tears?” Griffin questioned his wife, releasing Geralt and Yennefer. 

“She’s upset Griffin, she has every right to be! This was supposed to be her night, and she’s been upstaged by Yennefer, yet again.” She tsked. “Our _Philippa_ is pregnant, due in June.” Clarissa beamed. Eskel grinned mischievously, and Geralt shook his hand over the table. 

Geralt couldn’t tell if Yennefer was shocked at their behavior, or her news. “Yet again? What do you mean?” She wasn’t sure how her pregnancy had anything to do with Philippa. 

Clarissa scrunched her face before responding, “Everything has been about _you_ , Yennefer. Your problems with your last boyfriend, your lavish wedding, and now your pregnancy will overshadow hers. A person can only take so much.” 

“ _Mother_. Can I see you in the kitchen?” Geralt’s tone was terse, and he was already walking toward the door when he spoke. She made no move to follow him. “ _Now_.” She huffed and followed him into the other room. 

\------

Eskel took Philippa upstairs to clean up her tearstained face, blaming her tears on her hormones as they left. Yennefer sat back down on her chair with a thump, still trying to wrap her head around how her expecting a child was cruel. Geralt’s father pulled his chair toward hers. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking young lady, you can stop it right now. None of that circus had anything to do with you.” He patted her knee. 

Geralt’s angry voice boomed from the kitchen. “ _Jesus Christ mom, what is wrong with you! One baby is not more important than the other! You should be over the moon that you’ll have_ two _grandchildren_.” Her shrill response got muddled when he interrupted her. 

Yennefer asked him what had been on her mind since the first time she met her mother-in-law. “Griffin, just what is it about me that she hates? What have I done?”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her back. “My wife is not the same woman I met and fell in love with. She’s not the same mother she was when the boys were young, and I’m so ashamed that she’s taking out her issues on you dear.” 

“Thank you for saying that, but what can I do about it?” She played at one of the sequins on the bodice of her dress. “Don’t take offense, but I don’t care to be in the same room with her.”

“This is on her, and I told Geralt this same thing on the day of your wedding. You must live your lives and be happy, leave her out. Well, I told him to leave _us_ out of your lives, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss a moment with my grandchildren.” He smiled. “I’m so grateful to have you as my daughter, and I know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Geralt.”

Geralt burst from the kitchen, anger still plain on his face. “I think we’ll head home.” Yennefer agreed, gathering her violet wrap. 

“I’m so happy for you both, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” Griffin offered. 

The frustration eased from Geralt’s frame. “Don’t let them tell anyone yet, we’re trying to keep it from the press as long as possible.” Griffin held the door for them and issued a last apology. “Give Eskel my best again until we see him.” Geralt perked up before the door closed. “By the time our baby is born, I expect you to be fully refreshed on diaper changing protocol. Something tells me, we men will be heading up that department.” 

The door closed on Griffin’s laugh, excitement still bright in his eyes. 

\------  
-Yennefer-

“I am, so, sorry.” He was trying to gauge how upset she was as they drove. It had rained, and the puddles reflected off the street lights ahead of them. 

“It’s not your fault Geralt. She hurt you too.” 

Yennefer loathed to admit it, but the mixed reception of their news had done nothing to bolster her confidence. Philippa had been friendly enough to her on set, but once Daphne passed, so had her congenial demeanor. It seemed she had found a new family with Eskel’s mother, and made Yennefer a scapegoat. She took every step forward Yennefer made in her personal life and her career as direct competition for her own, and it wasn’t healthy. 

“I’ll admit, that wasn’t the reaction I expected from my mother, but she was cruel to you. Now I have insight into what I missed at your shower. I don’t understand why she thinks that’s acceptable behavior.” He took her hand. “From now on, they can come to us if they choose, on our terms. I don’t want that bullshit around you or the baby.” 

Blessedly, the press hadn’t followed them from the airport this visit, so they were unencumbered by photographers. “I can’t erase it, but I can tell you my dad almost flipped the table he was so excited.” Geralt smirked and she nodded.

“He’s a sweet man, I see whom you take after.” She leaned to kiss his cheek. 

“I can also point us in the direction of chocolate milkshakes?” He would try anything to make her feel better. 

“ _God yes_. After that, my parents? I know we said we’d tell them tomorrow, and it’s late, but I just need my mom.” She hadn’t seen Calanthe since the ill fated picnic, and filming abroad had given her an excuse for space. Yennefer had had enough of her own introspection and sulking. 

As the days passed since they found out she was pregnant, she began to understand the hard decision Tissaia had made some twenty-five years ago. Yennefer loved her unborn child more than life itself, and if she had to give him up to give him a better life, she hoped she would have the courage to do so. Her aunt and uncle adopted her because they _wanted_ her, not because she was forced upon them as an afterthought. 

———

Geralt held a tray of milkshakes as she fumbled through one of Calanthe’s potted plants, looking for her parent’s hidden key. She didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake them all up. “Ah ha!” She whispered loudly, blowing the dirt from the little metal key. He waited patiently, grin on his face as she turned the lock and opened the heavy front door. Her mother was a light sleeper, and she knew when the door groaned, that she would wake. 

Wake she did, coming around the corner from the living room with an iron poker from their fireplace swung over her shoulder. She must have fallen asleep on the couch, Yennefer could see the soft glow of the television behind her. 

“Yenna!?” She asked in a low tone, lowering the poker. “Oh God, what’s wrong, what’s happened?”

Geralt stepped from the shadowy porch behind her, milkshakes in hand and a lopsided grin on his face. Calanthe was even more confused. 

“Mom,” Yennefer began, “I’m sorry I haven’t been by, or called as much as I should have since the picnic.”

“Come inside, both of you, you’ll freeze to death.” Geralt closed the door behind him and they followed her into the living room. “You were in Poland honey, you’ve a busy life, I’d never hold that against you.”

“I was upset, and a little avoid-y, and I’m sorry.” Yennefer looked up at the intricate chandelier her parents had purchased on a trip to Holland when she and Pavetta were young. It was unique and familiar, in the same comforting way she leaned on Geralt, and full blood parents or not, they were hers.

“Something’s come up, and it’s made me realize I was being foolish. I’m grateful you and dad brought me into your hearts and your home, and I know it was hard for her, so hard.”

Calanthe’s face fell, “Yennefer, are you alright?”

“I’m pregnant mom.” Yennefer waited with a small smile for her mother to register her news. 

“What?” Calanthe breathed, unwilling to get her hopes up. Geralt pulled the string of ultrasound photos from his breast pocket and handed them to her, a huge grin on his face. So _that’s_ where the photos had gone, she thought. He’d been carrying them around with him, close to his heart. She took his hand when he stepped back, only to loose it again when her mother launched into her. 

She nearly squeezed the life from her, tears beginning to gather in her eyes. “Eist!” She shrieked, rocking Yennefer side to side. She caught Geralt’s smile over Calanthe’s shoulder, _this_ was the reception her news deserved. 

Lights flicked on at the top of the stairway, and Eist’s heavy footfalls shuffled down the stairs. “Geralt? Something wrong?”

“They're pregnant!” Calanthe all but squealed. “I’m going to be a nana!” She released Yennefer who took a grateful breath, and began rocking back and fourth on her heels, examining the photos. Eist shook Geralt’s hand and thumped him on the back before giving Yennefer a kiss on the cheek. 

Pavetta came down the stairs, groggy in her pajamas, and offered Geralt a fist bump when he explained the commotion. “Didn’t waste any time, did ya Romeo?” Geralt shrugged sheepishly and she gave her sister a happy hug. “Hey, what the hell, only four milkshakes!?”

———

“That bitch said what!?” 

Yennefer shushed her mother, Geralt and Pavetta in the kitchen concocting her a special milkshake, full of peanut butter and more chocolate chips than their blender could handle from the sound of it. 

“We were going to come and tell you tomorrow, but I got anxious when the first announcement went over so horribly.”

Eist spoke up, “It sounds like that Philippa has her all wound up honey, do your best not to take her to heart.”

“Or she’s just a cunt.” 

“ _Mother_!” Yennefer hissed. “Her rejection is hard on Geralt too, I don’t want him knowing how much she brothers me. He feels bad, he doesn’t need to feel worse.”

“What flavor is this sweetie?” Eist looked comical, his big frame sandwiched in the couch behind Calanthe in his flannel bottoms, sipping from his straw. 

“It’s cherry dad, Geralt picked it for you.” She couldn’t help but smile at his not so subtle distraction. 

“Well, I think it’s my new favorite. I suppose it’s the least he could do, stealing my daughter and then knocking her up only hours after the ink was dry on your marriage certificate.” His matter of fact tone had Yennefer’s face in her hands. 

“I don’t care what flavor mine is, I’m getting a grand baby. Now Yennefer, is there any chance twins run in his family?” Calanthe looked over her shoulder, watching Pavetta laugh through the kitchen door. She retracted her words at Yennefer’s alarmed expression. “I’m sure it’s not honey, I was only being greedy.” 

“She _is_ greedy.” Eist offered, immediately regretting his sleepily uttered words. 

Calanthe shot him a look he knew he’d pay for, before pulling Yennefer into her arms again. “We’re so thrilled for you Yenna, we’re here for every moment you want to include us in.” Yennefer’s thanks mom was muffled into her sweater. 

———  
-Yennefer-

They flew back to London from Poland quite a few times that winter, the premiere of his movie happening just after Christmas. She was beyond her morning sickness, but also past hiding her pregnancy. She had found a lovely satin gown that flattered her baby bump and flowed to her feet gracefully. A deep emerald, the neckline swirled low to frame her chest in a tasteful manner, wrapping around her arms and leaving her shoulders bare. 

Salma found a faux fur shrug that would cover her shoulders and arms for their walk down the red carpet in the brisk December air. She had asked Salma to stay on with her, as her formal assistant, instead of solely working for Atlantis’s production company. Yennefer trusted the older woman, and she had been so caring to her from her first day as Eirene over two years ago, that she didn’t wish to lose her when her role was over. 

Her endless patience with Yennefer’s morning sickness, sensitivity to smells and ever changing appetites proved she would be a thoughtful help when the baby was born. Yennefer rejected the idea of a nanny right away, but she would certainly accept Salma’s help alongside Geralt’s assistant. She got along well with Graham, and even more so when he had offered to drive one of their cars and distract the paparazzi so they could go to dinner together peacefully. He’d been Geralt’s help and extra muscle for years, and had taken their marriage and pregnancy in stride. 

Cerys joined them for Geralt’s big moment as well, assigned to personally escort Kosmos and his little red cape down the carpet. Yennefer felt bad that she hadn’t been able to join them in Poland, and frankly, she missed the girl’s enthusiastic spirit. They flew her to London as a treat, outfitted her in a beautiful dress, and made quite a few of her dreams come true. 

“We are an entourage now.” Geralt observed as she entered the kitchen, her shrug tucked under her arm. Graham came from the garage and announced that their limousine had arrived. “You are so beautiful,” he traced the neckline of her dress with his fingertips, “let’s go back upstairs and be late.” 

She grinned, “Not a chance _Superman_. It’s your big night, and we aren’t missing a moment of it.” She leaned up on her toes, her hands finding the lapels of his suit. “I am so proud of you, stud.” Her smile disappeared when she caught his bottom lip, and he made it his priority to muss her perfect lipstick. 

\------

Geralt climbed from the limo first and was met with a hail of applause and cheers. He helped Yennefer out next, and Cerys and Kosmos followed. He kept his arm wrapped around her waist as they faced flash after flash, and shouts of “Here, Geralt!” and “Yennefer, look here please!” 

They walked slowly and posed, and Geralt stopped to sign a few autographs. Kosmos preened under the attention and the watchful eye of Cerys, keeping his own watch over Yennefer, never straying to far from her feet. A flashy looking woman with platinum blonde hair stepped forward, holding her phone toward Yennefer. “Yennefer, Olivia for Entertainment Weekly, how far along are you? Was this baby planned?” 

Yennefer sighed, irritated that they were fixated on her belly as opposed to her husband’s accomplishment. “We’re about six months along, and he or she is very happy to have his _Superdad_ home from working so hard filming such an epic role. We prefer to keep our family planning private,” Yennefer smiled, “thank you.” 

A reporter from GQ caught Geralt’s attention and asked about his fitness routine. Olivia tried again, “That was so fast after your wedding, is it fair to say that your husband has _Super_ sperm?” Yennefer glanced to Geralt, but he hadn’t heard. 

“Ah, my husband’s methods are highly effective.” She threw her a bone. Yennefer was relived when they moved along. 

“ _Superman_ , Yennefer, I’m here on behalf of the Sunday Times Magazine. How does it feel to be a part of the DC Universe Family? And did you do your own stunts?” She let Geralt answer, the beaming smile on his face worth the hassle of her painful shoes and her strapless bra. Kosmos’s soft head appeared under her hand and she scratched behind his ear affectionately. 

A flash bulb lit particularly close to her eyes and she ducked her face under his jaw. “Were you forced to get married because you were pregnant?” A rude voice shouted from the back of the crowd, followed by another, “Is it even Geralt’s baby?!”

She gave him an apologetic look, she would have done him better to stay home. Just when she thought his night ruined, he answered for her and brought a smile to her face.

His tone merited no come back. “We were not forced, I put that diamond on her finger over a year ago. If you had a wife as smart and beautiful as mine, you would have done the same thing. Pardon my French, but you’re goddamn right that’s my baby.” He gave a nod to the gossip mongers and guided her down the carpet. Once they were beyond the assholes, he gave her a sweet kiss that the cameras took full advantage of. 

———

Callonetta settled in on the plush sofa, Yennefer doing the same across from her. She loosened her fur shrug, warm now that they’d come inside the venue. Geralt’s other costars arrived and he posed with their Lois, Martha and Jonathan outside the windows they sat near. It felt good to be off her feet for a bit, and Kosmos was happy to have her away from people shoving things at her. Cerys perched on the soft next to him excitedly.

“Was it fun? The red carpet?” Yennefer asked, arranging the silk skirts of her dress on the cushion.

“Oh my god, _yes_.” Cerys gushed. 

Callonetta’s camera man gave the cue that he was ready, but she leaned forward. “Off the record, how did he react?”

Yennefer’s mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. “He was excited, really excited.” Callonetta smirked, she’d expected as much. He had been a playboy when she began interviewing them for Altlantis over two years ago, hurt by a past relationship and unwilling to trust. Each time she met with them, he opened up a bit more as he grew closer to Yennefer, and she’d never seen a man smile as much as he had that night with his arm around her. 

“Alright, we’ll keep this short and sweet so you can join when they come inside.” Callonetta held up her tablet and leafed through her notes. “How has the shift from filming in Marseille to Poland been for you all?”

“It’s lovely. We certainly miss our French friends and family,” she blew Cerys a kiss, “but Warsaw is a beautiful place, and we still have so many people to meet and places to explore. The tone of the show this season is a bit darker, and I think the setting reflects that.” 

“Our Eirene! She kept her pregnancy from Perseus and threw herself headlong into danger. I simply cannot wait to see the next episodes, and I hope Perseus can find her before Triton does something evil!” 

“Me too,” Yennefer winked. “She did jump right in there, I really enjoyed working on the fight scene.” Yennefer paused thoughtfully. “She was desperate, determined to do what she could to save their lives. I look up to Eirene, I wish I was half as brave as she is!” 

“Last question if you can, what can we expect to see for the rest of the season?”

“Well, by the end there will be new faces, and not everyone who began will last to the finish. It’s going to be a bloody journey, but hopefully it’ll lead to a peace that will last.” 

“That only makes me even more apprehensive and excited to watch it! Thank you so much, until next time.” Callonetta motioned to the camera man that they were finished. 

Geralt and the others entered the venue and he wandered over to them. He leaned over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to Yennefer’s bare shoulder, and she reached up to trace his jaw with her free hand, the other absentmindedly resting on her belly. “Join me for a movie gorgeous?” He held his hand out and helped her slip back into her shoes.

“It’s a date.” She answered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Salma the succubus a kind older lady, just keep pretending with me. :D
> 
> I know it's been ages on this fic, but I promised I will finish and I will! This baby just takes longer to write! 28 page chap - *falls over* Please forgive my typos, this is such a beast to edit! Thanks for your patience!


	12. Secrets and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Secrets and Lies, Ruelle

_:: Poseidon paced back and fourth, sandals slapping abruptly on the ivory marble floors. His son was a menace. He’d taken control of Poseidon’s army without his consent, locked him in his own thrown room and marched across the island to exert his dominance over what he stood to inherit. Poseidon had made a mistake, a grave one._

_He chose Triton's way over Eirene simply because he was male. She had been a headstrong young girl, refused his suggestion of taking a husband from his court and cried off with that half breed boy, but her words regarding war had been sound. He had failed to see her worth, and instead sentenced them all to his son’s reign of terror._

_His bitter feud with Athena had caused his ego and vanity to cloud his judgment. He knew she was a driving force behind the army in his woods. She was wickedly smart, but he feared she could not muster enough to defeat his own forces in a battle of brawn._

_He heard footsteps down the corridor, and sat down hard on the largest throne on the dais. Triton sauntered in, a small woman tossed over his shoulder. She was face down against his chest, and a trail of thick red blood followed them. He snarled, “Triton, what is the meaning of this?”_

_He pitched his shoulder forward and the unconscious woman tumbled from his grasp onto the marble steps at Poseidon’s feet. “Eirene!” He barked, lurching up from his seat and bending over her. He tried to rouse her, but she was so pale. He rolled her onto her hip and scowled at the angry wound, her leg flayed open and still bleeding._

_“What have you done?” He barked, looking up and meeting Triton’s callous expression._

_“What you were too weak to accomplish, old man.”_

_“You’ve gone too far, you’ve lost yourself.” He returned his gaze to her frail form, smoothing her hair back from her face. Poseidon’s face softened, “I’ve failed you daughter. I’ve failed you all- “ His jaw fell and his face morphed in surprised agony. Triton slid Eirene's dagger back out of Poseidon’s back, and tipped his body with his foot. Poseidon slumped forward over her, the life ebbing from his wide eyes._

_“You’re wrong father.” He spoke to no one. “I’ve finally found myself.” ::_

———

:: _Glaucus waited for Triton to storm from the palace and rejoin the fighting before he rushed into the throne room. He pressed his fingers to Poseidon’s neck, and reverently closed his lids and rolled him off of Eirene. Her breathing was shallow, but she was alive. He checked her leg. “Oh lass, how many times did I remind you watch your own hide.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “’Yer already warm, you’ll test me today won’t ye.”_

_He was a relatively trim man, and based on his appearance, considerably older than Poseidon. What he lacked in stature, he made up for in core strength. He plucked her from the steps gingerly, and arranged her against his chest so he wouldn’t disturb her leg. “Off with us now my Chickadee, we’ll see you well again.” ::_

———

_:: Glaucus was as older god, one most regarded as washed up and useless. Being a patron of sea farers and sailors alike, he made his home on Poseidon’s island. For every storm and rage Poseidon caused, he would intervene to spare virtuous and gallant men from their deaths. Poseidon know of his existence on the island and couldn’t be bothered to eradicate him._

_Years ago he had come across the little lass roaming the beach, pouting at her father’s strict hand and hunting for crabs. Charmed by her vibrant purple eyes and her innocent sass, he took her under his wing and taught her what he felt she aught to know. The importance of reading, survival, and the basics of battle. Her father would simply marry her off, but he saw potential in the girl that her snobbish sisters lacked._

_Every day she would sneak away and he would appear, coaching her on the nuances of nature and the effect of mercy, warning her of the evils of men. Most importantly for a lass as beautiful as she, he made sure she grasped the importance of thinking for herself. When he caught word that she had defied her father and joined the mortal civilization, he had been tremendously proud._

_He ducked inside the little old shack with her and prayed she hadn’t told anyone of it’s existence. It was blessedly still hidden and empty. It was obvious she hadn’t been there to read in years, but the place was still tidy and well kempt. He laid her on the cot gently, leaning his bow and small quiver of arrows against the wall. He’d explained when a young Eirene had asked why he only carried a few arrows._ ‘If you’re going to carry it, you’d better be accurate enough to hit your mark by the second arrow, cause the bastard’ll be upon you before the next.’

_The battle raged on in the distance, but he doubted that Athena’s mortals would push Triton back as far as the shack by the end of the day. “Lass, were ye’ not so pale, I’d say you’re even more bonny than your sweet ma’. I know you’ll fret, but I must cut off the leathers. I’ll welcome the fretting if it means you’ll live ta’ do it.”_

_His touch was tender but clinical, and he worked fast, anxious to tend to her leg. He moved the armor panels, and when he unlaced her trousers, his jaw dropped. He wasn’t trying to save someone he’d come to love as a daughter, but two lives. “Oh lass, yer in more trouble than I thought.” He moved faster, her injury all the more urgent. He propped up her torso with the pillow from the head of the cot and rolled her onto her uninjured leg._

_“I’m to clean this nasty thing chickadee, try not to wake.” He pulled a vial of powder and a flask of moonshine from a small pouch on his waist. She groaned when the liquid touched her skin, and when it dribbled down into her wound, she woke and screamed bloody murder. ::_

———  
Warsaw, Poland  
-Geralt-

There was a cafe at street level below their flat, next door to a quiet bar and a quaint pet shop. The sun was beginning to set when Geralt sat down at the bar, subtly hailing the barkeep for a beer. He glanced down the counter, one way and then the other, not finding anything of interest. His drink arrived and he tipped the man generously, sliding the bills over the edge of the wooden surface onto the lower tier, as not to arouse any curiosity at his ample means.

He took long pull from the amber bottle, returning it to his coaster without a sound. The man to his right spoke up and asked him if he came there often. The man was harmless enough, young, too young to be drowning his sorrows in his own bottle. It was Geralt’s first time in the cozy establishment, and he asked the young man if he ever had any luck with any of the few women scattered about the place.

“Never really anyone to brag about. A fine piece sitting over by the billiards, but Antoni here already gave her a go. Frosty bint.”

Geralt’s Polish was rough, but he and his friend got the point. “Shut you right down did she?”

“Ah, she did, but she came off uppity about it. Triss over there’s good for an evening, and she’s already givin’ you the eye.”

“Fresh meat.” His friend echoed and they both shared a laugh. It was obvious they’d both sampled the local clientele. A fiery redhead had taken a seat at the bar, and an obvious interest in him.

“The frosty one. She’s more my type.” He took another sip, but never looked over his shoulder.

“You haven’t even seen her, mate. The only broad worth that much work is a blonde.” He tipped the neck of his beer toward Geralt to emphasize his point. “Besides, you’ll never get her.”

Geralt schooled is features as only a seasoned actor could. Challenge accepted.

“Shit, here she comes now.” Both men straightened awkwardly, but Geralt didn’t move from his relaxed stance.

Flawless hands appeared to his left, depositing an empty glass, a little colored straw indicating it had been a non-alcoholic drink. Manicured fingernails laid down a few folded bills, and she waited a moment for the bartender to acknowledge her payment. He deliberately filled his lungs with her sweet perfume. A solitary platinum band rested on her left hand, as dainty as it was shiny under the mirrored lights at the bar.

“Leaving so soon?” Geralt’s voice was low and smooth, and he gave her a half glance.

“I am.” She was frosty, just as the men warned him. She wore a loose fitting silk blouse, a pleated skirt and a pair of high heels that meant business. Geralt himself wore a tie and dress slacks, it was a classy place that entertained businessmen and the residents of the posh flats alike.

“Any room for company?” He acted nonchalant, as though he could give or take a night with her.

“I’m married.” Even though her words were discouraging, her tone warmed towards him and the men looked on, enraptured.

“He the jealous type?” His words held promise.

“Very much so. I don’t know if there’s a limit to what he would do, honestly.” The bartender took her generous tip and gave them both an inquisitive look. Two massive tips out of nowhere, and now his high rollers were speaking to each other.

“Sounds like a beast. When’s he due back?” Both men to Geralt’s right were hanging on every word, their fascination no longer half hidden.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but not until tomorrow morning.” If she truly meant to blow him off she wouldn’t have bothered to give him the details. She pulled a card from her purse and an elegant pen, scrawling what they all assumed was her phone number or address. She folded it in half and slid it to his fingertips. “The clock’s ticking.”

With that she turned and left, the bartender, both men, and the redhead all starring after her. All but the man with the golden eyes and the paper between his fingers. He took another lazy sip from his beer, and the man next to him turned back.

“Holy shit mate, you heard what she said about her old man?”

Geralt nodded, finishing the last of the bottle slowly.

“Well? Are you going!? You can’t pass that up!”

“I’ll think about it.”

———

Geralt rode the lift up to their flat, a fat grin on his face when the men wished him luck and gave him advice about how to evade her husband. He pulled the paper from his pocket and opened it to read;

_Hurry stud, before he gets home. <3_

How fucking lucky was _he._

He slipped through the door of their flat without making a sound, toeing off his boots and setting them on the mat by the door. They had talked about this, she had practically begged him for it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be cautious. He would _always_ be cautious with her. She was too precious to him to treat her in any other manner.

The large bag and smartly cut blazer that had hid her belly from the bar patrons were tossed into one of the chairs surrounding their coffee table. Kosmos ducked from the hallway, saw that the intruder was only him, and turned back to return to her. He smirked, he might as well be chopped liver.

He pulled off his necktie and loosened the collar of his shirt, the black silk ideal for what he had in mind. She was fussing with something up high in their linen closet, on her tip toes in stocking covered feet. Her fingertips strained to reach a set of sheets on the highest shelf.

He came from behind her silently, clamping his hand over her mouth and wrapping an arm around her middle. She jumped, but realized it was him soon enough. His grip was firm but gentle, and the strong arms and masculine scent she would recognize anywhere. “How long until he’s back?” Geralt’s voice was husky, his tone even a bit lower than normal.

“Not for a while, long business trip.” She purred, her lashes shut. She relaxed into his hold and he slipped the tie around her face, tying it behind her head securely. She broke from her game for a moment, “The last time you did that, - “

“ – we made a baby.” He finished for her, nuzzling his nose into the hollow of her neck. “Worth revisiting.” Her little moan agreed.

He fell back into character. “How come you’re down in a bar, looking for company if you’re married? Is he mean, uncaring? He ignores you?” Geralt ran his hands up and down her sides, his breath warming the delicate skin of her collarbone.

“None of those, he’s just a terrible lover.” His hands stopped for a moment but continued on, and she bit her lip to keep her giggle at bay.

“Why me, when the other guys at the bar wanted you first?” He trailed over her belly and stopped to caress her breast through her thin blouse.

She pushed her hips back against his and reached to hold his thigh close so she could feel his erection through his slacks. “They were boys, I’m only interested in _men_.”

He disappeared, the heat of his body faded and her hands clutched at air. He scooped her in his arms as suddenly as he’d left her, his strong hold across her back and under her knees. She had been in the middle of changing their sheets, and it was just as well, because he was bound to be sloppy with what he had in mind.

He set her down gently on the soft flannel, the material warm for the nights she went to bed before he did. She relaxed on the mattress and he guided her hands toward the headboard, running his palms down her body and savoring her pleased hum. She heard the buckle of his belt and bit her lip, her knees practically falling open of their own accord.

He smirked, leaning to thread the soft leather around her wrists and securing her hands to their wrought iron headboard. He’d promised her a surprise for their game, and he planned to give her more than one, she deserved it. He climbed onto the bed and straddled her waist, beginning at the base of her neck with the tiny row of buttons on her blouse.

His lips found hers, warm and firm, and for a moment the swipe of her tongue and the taste of her mouth was enough to distract him from his task. He shook his mind clear and reached the hem of the silky garment, siding it up her arms. He took a moment to take her in, gooseflesh spreading over her skin at the rush of cool air. All of her lingerie was new to accommodate for her growing bust, and each time he uncovered a new piece it was like opening a gift, each one more precious than the last.

He cupped her breasts over the lacy black bra, kissing his way down her cleavage to find the front clasp he hoped would be waiting. The garment fell to her sides and he couldn’t hold back his groan. A small smile spread her pinked lips, knowing his affinity for her increased cup size, and secure enough to know that he loved her body with or without the added baby weight.

He feathered kisses across her skin, murmuring as he went, his erection insistent against her hip. “So fucking beautiful, he’s going to regret leaving you home alone.” He sucked a small pink mark on the underside of her breast, and bathed both of her nipples with his tongue until they hardened to his satisfaction. She squirmed a bit under him, drawing her thighs together and trying to create some friction to alleviate the need that pulsed between her legs.

“I’ll be right back sugar.” A name he never called her, but a stranger might just as well. “Don’t go anywhere.” He mocked, leaving her blouse open and her wet skin to chill in the open air.

He jogged into he kitchen and hurried, occupying Kosmos with a fresh layer of peanut butter in an intricate toy and rummaging through the cupboard for what he wanted. Everything in his arms was cliche, but it would get the job done.

He returned to the bedroom and set down the jar, the can, and the bottle, noticing a shiver run through her as she waited patiently. He pulled his shirt over his head, disregarding the buttons and let his slacks and boxers puddle on the floor. He yanked off his socks before running his hands from the soles of her nylon covered feet, up her calves and thighs to roll them down her legs slowly, planting kisses in his wake.

He unzipped her skirt and pulled it past her knees, holding back his groan at the evidence of her arousal. Her panties were soaked and her inner thighs slick, her appreciation for their game not unnoticed. He had to pace himself, or their evening would be over before it began. He shook the can of whipped cream and she smirked, turning towards it as though she could see it.

He smiled as he painted circles of the cream over her breasts, and began licking and cleaning the sweet fluff from her warm skin. “Some cream for me?” She asked, holding out her tongue hesitantly. He reached for the cream and she added, “If you put your cock in my mouth right now I’ll - “ He silenced her with a puff of whipped cream and a grin, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about it. There was time for that another day, not that he wasn’t hard as steel against her hip.

He watched her lick the sweet cream from her lips as he did the same from her breasts, her hum of approval reverberating from deep in her throat. He could tell she wanted him to apply more pressure, the hands that would normally hold him tight were caught up in his belt. Her breasts had been more sensitive than normal and he was deliberately gentle, knowing it would only wind her up and provide little relief.

He poured one last squirt of the whipped cream on his tongue and covered his lips to hers, giving her another taste with his tongue. They savored the sweet flavor together before he pulled away too soon for her liking. He pulled his pillow from the other side of the bed and she whined at the loss of his body heat. She was getting desperate to finish and he had two more little _snacks_.

He propped his thick pillow behind the small of her back and grabbed the bottle, pouring the cool liquid over the swell of her belly and down between her breasts. She shuddered, unable to see the thick chocolate sauce as he licked and suckled at the soft skin of her navel. He brought his lips to hers and let her taste the rich chocolate, her tongue searching for every last bit.

His game was unraveling. The more he touched her, the more desperate she became, pulling at the leather around her wrists trying to catch one of his legs between hers. He finished cleaning the chocolate, rolling and squeezing her nipples as he went and leaving one last kiss over her belly.

He hooked his thumbs in the band of her panties and pulled them down her hips, the last piece of clothing that protected her falling away. He opened the last jar, determined not to hurry and cheapen the idea. He held the jar over her hip and drizzled thin strands of the thick liquid across her inner thighs and over her folds, circling the sticky honey where he knew he would spend the most time worshiping her.

He licked her thighs with broad strokes of his tongue and she shifted her legs, trying to guide him to her center. She huffed, frustrated when he took too long savoring the tangy mix of her slick and the sweet honey. “I can’t wait, Gera-, er, _hurry_.” Without stopping his progress, he dipped two fingers in the jar and brought them to her lips. Blindly she licked at the sweet liquid until she took his fingers in her mouth and sucked them with the same twists and movements he so enjoyed around his cock.

He moaned against her skin and finally moved to lick her clit, jolts of pleasure curling up through her body and causing her leg to twitch against his arm. He pulled his fingers from her mouth and she swore, laying her calf on his back to pull him closer. Her mewls of pleasure were interlaced with rapid pants and he longed to look into her eyes when he slid his tongue between her folds and cleaned the last of the honey.

She came around his tongue, buried deep in her core, flicking and licking her warm center for all he was worth. Her thighs squeezed around his head and his short beard tickled her skin, his nose bumping her clit. Her back bowed and her wrists pulled against his belt as she shifted towards him on the pillow, a high pitched moan dragging past her lips.

She sank back into the mattress slowly and he eased his movements between her legs, placing a sloppy kiss on her thigh before crawling up her body. He eased the blindfold from her eyes and she opened them slowly, adjusting to the light in the room. She leaned up to capture his lower lip and tasted a bit of honey hiding in his short beard.

She could see the smile in his eyes before he reached up to free her hands, his face falling to a frown when he saw the pink marks just below the heel of her palms. “Hey, I did that, I pulled on them.” She insisted, slipping her wrist from his and dancing her thumb across his cheek. “It doesn’t hurt. I love you.” She could tell he was still unhappy with the marks, but she knew they would fade by the next morning.

“What if he sees them? Your husband.” He nuzzled his cheek to hers and suckled on her earlobe lightly.

She forgot their game for just a moment before teasing, “I guess he’ll probably kill you. I can’t say I didn’t warn you.” She ran her fingers through his thick hair as she’d wanted to do all night. “How would you like to spend your last hours?”

He released her ear to whisper his wish and she grinned. “I’m amenable to that.”

She rolled on her side and he guided his neglected erection between them, shuddering against her back when he was fully enveloped in her tight heat. She leaned on his arm and he tucked the other against her chest, rocking their hips together in a slow rhythm. She brought his hand to her lips and brushed kisses over his fingers, the sounds of his pleasure buried in her hair.

His movements became erratic and his thrusts deep, and she took two of his fingers in her mouth, rubbing her clit to catch up with him. She felt his groan against her back before she heard it, firm snaps of his hips burying him deep as he clung to her. She released his fingers to shout and curl her knees forward. Her breaths were shaky when she remembered to take them again, and he mumbled loving words as she slowly melted back into his arms.

“Baby?” She asked when she could speak again, “I’m sticky.”

He chuckled against her shoulder. “I’ll carry you to the bath, love.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t the clean sheets.”

———  
-Yennefer-

Poland’s Long Market was bustling, even in the cold March temperatures. Yennefer wanted to see more of the country before the baby was born, and they had a weekend free from appearances and obligation. She was bundled in a long, plush coat and warm boots, and Geralt pulled the furry hood over her head tightly when a swirl of wind came their way. Graham trialed behind them, but they were otherwise inconspicuous as they wove through the tents and stalls.

She pondered over a trunk of wool scarves, the colors vibrant and the material surprisingly soft. “I’m thinking we’ll give them as gifts, for Scotland.” She ran her fingers over a violet and black damask patterned one and he motioned for the owner of the booth.

“We’ll take that purple one, and thirty more please.”

Yennefer pointed to the colors and patterns she liked and the woman gleefully bagged them up. Graham already carried her pastries, a sweater she insisted Geralt needed, and various jewelry pieces for her mother and Pavetta. She chose dainty gold necklaces for Tissaia and Renfri, the newest additions to her souvenir list.

“Yen, let’s go inside and warm up, your cheeks are pink.” Geralt urged.

He was so worried she would catch a cold, that she’d had to resort to somewhat underhanded methods to reassure him that everything would be fine. She smirked and a shudder rolled through her at the memory of his face while she…convinced him. She couldn’t have asked for a more supportive spouse, and for the most part, she found his hovering and gentle prodding quite charming.

“Alright, some hot cocoa and then just a few more stands?”

He took the bags of scarves and agreed, they needed to run their wares to their car anyway. Graham did the running, and Geralt returned with her hot chocolate, complete with the sprinkle of cinnamon he knew she always requested. She was seated at a small table in front of large windows facing the street, the dusting of snow giving the market a special glow.

She pulled off her hood, untied the scarf he insisted she wear, and his lips found hers with practiced ease. He scrunched up his face and set down their cups. “Your nose is cold.”

She took a hesitant sip, relishing in the warm liquid on her throat. “I’m just fine, and so is he.” He swooped in to kiss her again, his beard tickling her chin. He hovered at her lips before pulling away, and when she opened her eyes, she was struck by the affection that drew lines near his eyes and the dimples under his beard.

Graham returned and he straightened in his seat, bringing what she knew would be strong black coffee to his mouth. “I don’t know how you can drink that black sludge.” She shook her head, but pulled off her mittens to lay her hand on his.

“I need the energy baby, this _dad_ thing is a full time gig, and I’m taking my training very seriously.”

\------  
-Geralt-

“Oh, God yes.” Yennefer sank into the hot water and it immediately began to warm and soothe her sore muscles.

They’d taken the train from Gdańsk to Chocholowska, in search of the region’s famous thermal baths. The hot springs were situated in a picturesque mountain area, and elegant bath houses and outdoor pool establishments garnered quite a bit of tourist funds for the area. They had chosen carefully, and reserved their own outdoor sparkling turquoise pool, complete with a view of the snowy mountain valley.

Steam rolled up from the clear water as it met the clean, chilly air. A few strands of her dark hair escaped her clip and hung low in the warm water. Geralt climbed in next to her, the underwater lighting showing her small feet as she kicked them languidly. “Shit, this _is_ nice.”

The afternoon began to fade into dusk, but the facility was equipped with sufficient ambient lighting to run long into the night. Yennefer stretched her tired legs and her back, agreeing with him. “It’s almost _sex_ nice.”

“Whoa, whoa, I wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

She smirked, leaning from the wall and treading water in the pool. Their visit might be the only chance she got to wear her new bathing suit, as it fit over her belly perfectly. A soft grey suit, it tied around her neck and her back was left bare. They swam and played until he began to worry about getting her hair wet, and her getting sick.

“Come here my mermaid.” He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. She leaned up to give him a kiss, and for the millionth time, he was struck by how lucky he was. There was a point in his life when he was committed and perfectly happy to live the life of a bachelor, and now he couldn’t imagine a day without her.

Yennefer turned in his arms to peer out over the mountains. He bent to kiss along her shoulder and she leaned back into his chest. Geralt slipped his hand inside her suit, rubbing his thumb on the side of her belly. He whispered in her ear, and she hummed, “I love you too, stud.”

He slid underneath her belly and swiped his fingers low, her gasp music to his ears. His fingertips danced along her skin and she quivered. “Geralt, _here_?”

“Why not, _mama_?”

She reached up slowly and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “Mmmmm,” she murmured, not only at the play of his fingers, but his words.

Geralt nibbled her ear lobe while he circled her clit lazily. She wiggled her bottom against the bulge growing in his trunks and he tsked. “Not fair, you wicked siren.”

She smirked before siding her fingers into his thick hair and pulling his lips to hers. He thrust his tongue in her mouth in the same rhythm as his fingers and her breath caught. He slid his hand lower, the heel of his palm on her clit, and two fingers buried deep. She rolled against his hand and the other came to caress her breast, her nipples hard and straining against the wet material.

He played her body like a finely tuned instrument, one who’s secrets only he knew. Sharp pants and a trembling moan left her weightless in his arms, the warm water soothing her body and his kiss, her soul.

———

_:: Triton returned to the fighting, but both sides had taken heavy losses. Taken aback that Athena’s rag-tag group of mortals had done so much unexpected damage to his troops, he pulled them back to regroup. As the fighting waned, Perseus continued tearing through warrior after warrior, determined to find Triton and force him to return his wife._

_Athena finally got ahold of him, barely avoiding a wide and wild arc of his sword. Her brother was coated in blood, chest heaving, a desperate look in his eyes. She took him by the shoulders and shook him. “Perseus, stop! It’s over for now.”_

_“Like hell it is! She was here, Eirene.” He could barely speak, so out of breath from his murderous rampage. “He took her, he fucking took her!”_

_“I saw brother, I saw. We’ll get her back. Come, you need to rest before you fall over.”_

_“How the hell did she get here?” Athena held back her witty quip about his wife’s tail. He would figure it out once he calmed down. Frankly, she was surprised Eirene waited so long to join them._

_She walked him towards their camp, and suddenly he stumbled, falling to his knees. He let out a tortured howl , and she tried to check him for major injuries quickly. “Theseus, he wasn’t with her.”_

_“Stop jumping to conclusions. She wouldn’t bring him here, she’s an idiot to follow us, but she’s never been stupid when it comes to her son. He’s probably nestled at home with her lover, the kind, sympathetic blacksmith.” The look he shot her indicated he hadn’t appreciated her jest. ::_

\------

-Yennefer-

“Since when is Superman so puny!”

Jaskier had just called _cut_ on one of Geralt’s action scenes, when a loud voice called out through the trees and over the crowd of extras. Geralt recognized the voice, and broke free of the soldier he’d been grappling with. A man Yennefer didn’t recognize jogged over, and Geralt wrapped an arm around him, thumping his back with disregard for the fake blood splattered all over himself.

“Lamb, what the hell are you doing here?”

_Lamb_ , she wondered if this was Lambert, his old mate from boarding school. They’d been on the rugby team together, and had actually been quite good. Geralt told her he had been an aspiring actor as well, but had quit school in his later years to backpack across Europe.

“Same thing you are, Horny Thorny, lookin’ to breathe life into your stodgy old show.”

“I thought you were joking about going back to acting. Here, come and meet my wife.” He turned to ask a few minutes of Jaskier, and he waved him off, knowing there would be a reunion when he had hired Lambert.

Yennefer sat on a comfortable, plush chair, a pillow wedged behind her back. Portable heaters lined the three walls of the tent, and it was so warm that she wore only a light sweatshirt over a pair of Geralt’s oversized sweatpants. She reviewed a script in one hand, Delilah molded to her other side and sound asleep. Kosmos jumped down from his seat against her unoccupied leg to slowly and carefully sniff and inspect the newcomer as they approached.

“I’ve seen this bear on TMZ Ger, he looks like a hell of a bodyguard.” The dog finished his search satisfactorily, but hopped back up next to her to keep his vigil.

Lambert stopped her when she put down the script and tried to get up to greet him. “Don’t get up sweetie, you’ve got your hands full.” He took her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “It’s an honor to meet the woman who tamed this unruly beast.” Geralt’s wide smile warmed her from the inside out.

“Just how many of these babies are yours mate?”

“All but the little blonde, she’s Jaskier’s daughter, Delilah.”

_Horny Thorny_ , she had an idea. “Lambert, did you happen to post a rather thirsty tweet a few years ago, something about licking Geralt?”

He narrowed his eyes before his full bodied laugh reached all the way to her toes. “LambiePie83, you’ve got me dear. It was actually those interviews that got me back into the business. I caught one on the tv in a tavern on the outskirts of Amsterdam, and my old friend here looked so happy, I knew I had to give it another shot.”

Jaskier called for everyone, and Geralt had to get back into position. “Where’ve they got you starting?”

“I’m our old man Glaucus. It’s a wonder what they can do with makeup these days, they’ll make me look as old as you already do.” He was poking at Geralt, knowing they were the same age. “Aren’t you glad I’m back Ger? I’m dating your ex, and I get to undress your wife on my first day of filming.”

\------

Geralt went back to shooting, nervous about the conversation between Yennefer and Lambert on the sidelines. Lambert pulled up a chair and they spoke amiably, getting to know each other. He was a talented actor, headed for big things, and Keira knew as much. He apologized to Yennefer for any awkward feelings, but she didn’t hold any grudges toward the other woman.

“Keira was never anything other than kind to me, I’m glad the two of you have found each other.” Lambert nodded, learning more about her character as she rubbed circles on Delilah’s back.

“She promised not compare notes between the two of us, so that’s all I can ask for.” He smiled and she laughed.

“I’m glad you’ve signed on, Geralt needs a distraction every now and then. Jaskier has been terribly busy with the production schedule this year, and he needs an outlet.” She elaborated at his confused expression. “He’s thrown himself into the responsibilities of his role as a husband and father so fully, I want to make sure he takes time for himself. He’ll work and worry himself to the bone if given the chance.”

“I guess you know him pretty well, don’t you?” Lambert was impressed.

“I should.” She smiled.

———

_:: She knew where Eirene was. Athena had had a vision, and she knew where she was at the present. She walked toward Perseus’s tent quickly, the candle still burning as she knew it would be. She burst through the flap that served as a doorway, and he barely looked up from the map he studied._

_“I had a vision, I’ve found her.” Suddenly his interest in the map was gone and he hung onto her every word. “Well, sort of. She’s alive, in some type of small dwelling.” She left out the part about the severity of her wound, and the strange old man who was currently cutting off her clothes._

_“A small dwelling where?” He stood and forced his feet into his boots._

_“I’m not exactly sure.” She began spewing more details before he could gripe. “Ah, it’s small, barely room for a cot. There’s…a bookshelf! Yes, and – “ She stopped when he walked around her through the flap. She followed him._

_He spoke as he walked, never breaking his stride. “I know where she is. A small sanctuary of sorts.” Perseus mounted one of the few horses they had. “I’ll be back before morning. If not, assume we’re both gone and drive the line right up the walls of that palace.” He paused, swallowing hard. “And watch over my son.”_

_“Perseus,” Athena shouted after him, “she’s not alone!” ::_

\------

The restaurant was busy, but the owner sat them towards the back, in an intimately lit area of the establishment. The public knew they were filming in Hajnówka, but the press presence in such a remote area was nothing like it had been in France. They had a few fans inquire about autographs and selfies with Yennefer and Geralt, Keira garnering her own following, but they were otherwise left on their own. When all four couples took their seats, the waiter even made the comment that he’d never seen so many beautiful people all in one place before.

“This was supposed to be a “no kids” dinner, and you brought yours Geralt. You too Eskel, not fair. I had to pay a babysitter.” Jaskier whined.

Lambert couldn’t resist. “You sure you didn’t bring one?”

Jaskier went white as a sheet and got up to pester Sabrina.

After their meal, Geralt laughed and carried on with his brother and good friends, and Keira regaled the ladies with her tales of modeling abroad. Sabrina wanted to know more about the different kinds of men she’d interacted with, and Yennefer smiled, knowing her curiosity came from the epic wave of _terrible two’_ s that had swept through their flat. She was enjoying the thought of being single and free to gallivant across the world on a whim.

Keira began describing a man she met while on a photo shoot in Brazil, and Sabrina was enraptured. “He was just so…enthusiastic, even though he certainly wasn’t the _biggest_ man I’ve met.” The look she leveled at Yennefer was unmistakable, and she smirked back, rather than let her embarrassment show.

“Oh Yennefer,” Sabrina lamented, “I _knew_ you were being modest. You’re my best friend and I hate you.”

“Personally I find it disgusting that you three would sit here and discuss that at the table.” Philippa sucked the merriment from the room. “Thank God my fiancé can keep it in his pants and I don’t have to be ashamed of my husband’s liaisons.”

“Fiancé?” Sabrina and Yennefer spoke in time.

“Well, we’ve been ring shopping, it’s a matter of time now.”

Eskel laughed at one of Jaskier’s lame jokes, and Yennefer wondered if he knew what he was doing. Philippa laid her hand over her still suspiciously flat belly, making Yennefer feel quite the whale at almost eight months along. She knew she should muster a congratulations, but she couldn’t force the words from her mouth. Eskel deserved better.

Kiera saved her, giving Philippa a pat on the shoulder and wishing her well. Yennefer wasn’t sure what had turned Philippa into such a bitter person, but she would ask Geralt to talk with him and make sure his brother wasn’t about to make a huge mistake.

———  
Inverness, Scotland  
-Geralt-

Bagpipes called in the distance as Yennefer looked out over the loch, the castle’s balcony high up over the sheer rock wall below. Their sound was mournful and yet celebratory, the mist burning off the water in the morning sun. Footsteps approached from behind, but they were easily recognizable and she didn’t turn from the balcony rail.

She simply leaned back when he neared, and long arms wrapped her tight against his chest. “Thank you for doing this, it’s beautiful.” She squeezed his arm. 

“Dad put it all together, they’re his connections.” He’d put in a lot of work to make the festivities that day possible, flying their family and friends in from all over, but he would take none of the credit. 

She tilted her chin back on his shoulder and brought her lips to his jaw, the light blond whiskers of his cheek, and finally his lips. She smiled softly when they parted and he frowned, running his hands over her arms to warm them.

“Where’s your coat young lady?”

Yennefer’s soft creme colored dress had been tailored to her body and looked simply elegant. It’s long sleeves and flattering neckline were what drew her to it in the first place, and with Tissaia’s help, it clung gently to her rounded belly and flowed gracefully to her feet. Her make-up was soft with the exception of her shimmering eyeshadow and her thick curls pulled into a loose braid down her back.

He stepped back to pull the long plaid tartan that had been thrown over his shoulder and was meant for her. “You’re wearing it!” She realized excitedly. The suit jacket and kilt he wore were pressed to perfection, even if his legs weren’t accustomed to being exposed to the chilly spring air. The handsome green and blue plaid of his ancestors fell to his knees, and he knew she would request him to wear it for her in their room later that night.

“I have no clue how this is supposed to be pleated on you with the broach, we’ll have to get some help.” In the meantime he looped the warm material around her shoulders and used the wide cloth to pull her close for another kiss.

Her hands slipped up the front of his jacket and she wove them together around his neck. “Sexiest knees I’ve ever seen.” She mumbled between kisses.

“I’m not surprised.” Griffin’s rich timbre reached them without trouble, and Geralt slowly straightened, putting the flannel closed and wrapping it around her hands.

“Let ‘em go dad, it’s not like he can get her pregnant again.” Eskel’s quip earned him a light smack. Tissaia came through the balcony doors gracefully, Renfri in tow. She gave Geralt a quick hug and sent him to stand with the men while she fashioned the official pleats of Yennefer’s plaid.

Renfri held her new camera as though it was made of gold. “I really do appreciate this opportunity.” Her shy smile belied the feisty girl Yennefer knew was hiding underneath. She bent to give her a hug as Tissaia worked on the belt at her waist.

“We’re sisters, who else would I choose?” Yennefer had asked her to flex her budding interest in photography and take some photos of their trip.

“All set.” Tissaia finished with the gown and Yennefer went to stand with the men.

Yennefer stood between Geralt and Griffin, beaming smiles on all of their faces as Renfri snapped different shots and reorganized them.

Notably missing were Philippa and Clarissa who would attend Yennefer’s shower in the afternoon and Vesemir’s party later on. Things were tense among them all, since the moment Griffin had filed for divorce. Blame was placed and feelings were hurt, but in the end he revealed that it had been a long time coming.

Clarissa’s interior decorating business would support her, but if she wanted Griffin’s money, she would have to attend counseling. That condition set off another wave of animosity, but the trip to Scotland was her chance to prove she could adjust her behavior and remain a part of their family.

Calanthe, Eist, Pavetta and the rest of their family members appeared for photos, and even Yennefer’s great aunt Nenneke had made the trip. Calanthe and Nenneke moved to mix into the group and stand near Yennefer, when Nenneke unexpectedly patted Geralt on the arm. “I see you figured out the blanket son, good for you.” Geralt burst out laughing and wrapped his arm around her shoulder for the picture.

Yennefer’s family filtered out to attend a brunch, and Vesemir, Jaskier, and many other long time members of the cast and crew of Atlantis came to greet them. Their trip to Scotland served a dual purpose, also to provide an extravagant send off for Vesemir, his character having taken his last breath. “Alright,” Vesemir shouted over the conversations around him, “one with the lady of the hour and just her fathers.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and Yennefer couldn’t help but tear up at the loss of her film father, and a wonderful friend they would no longer see as much. Eist and Griffin joined the pair, and even though her biological father wasn’t present, the three men beside her had done more to support her than she thought the other man could ever do.

———  
-Yennefer-

The men went golfing, the courses in Inverness legendary, even though Geralt had been hesitant to go. Yennefer had shoo’d him off, reminding him that an afternoon sipping tea and unwrapping onesies did not require his assistance. Vesemir and Ragnar, Lambert and Jaskier, both fathers and he and Eskel set out to face a real Scottish challenge.

Yennefer did have help though, Pavetta resumed her gift delivering duties, and soon a small mountain of jumpers, tiny clothes, binkies and more, littered the table next to Yennefer. Cerys and her parents sat at a nearby table, keeping an eye on Kosmos who had installed himself underneath Yennefer’s chair.

Renfri snapped photo after photo and Yennefer began to wonder if Geralt had asked her to capture every single moment for him. Calanthe had outdone herself with the decor in the room, the balcony doors shut to keep out the cold, but the view no less breathtaking. Ivory and soft yellow flower bouquets littered the tables, and Sabrina had made the most lovely place cards. The scarves they purchased in the Polish market sat on each chair, wrapped in beautiful packaging and Yennefer’s thanks on the labels.

Pavetta put the last package in her lap, one with simple wrapping and no tag. She opened it carefully to reveal two long fabric wraps, one a dark teal and the smaller one a buttery yellow. She read the hand written note enclosed and Calanthe asked who they were from.

Yennefer’s eyes were watery when she finished reading the card. “They’re from Geralt, he bought them in the market on one of our trips in Poland. You knot them just so and they’ll hold the baby close to your chest, one for him and one for me.” Calanthe pressed for what else he wrote. “Ah, just some mushy _I love you_ stuff, you know.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes and her mother let it go. Yennefer could swear Calanthe loved that her hormones forced her to show her emotions instead of bottling them up inside. 

The guests ate and visited while Yennefer made her way to greet and thank all their family and friends who had traveled far and wide to support them. She was talking with Sabrina and Keira when they heard a commotion from the direction of the restrooms. “I’ll get it, I’ve got to pee for the ninetieth time today anyway.” Yennefer rubbed her back and made her way to the restrooms, only to be surprised to hear her great aunt’s voice.

“You’re a little liar, you are!” Her great aunt was old, but feeble she was not, and she shook her hand in Philippa’s face. Yennefer had seen blessed little of Clarissa and Philippa during the party, and had taken it as a sign that they were willing to be more mature.

“Auntie, please don’t be rude. What’s going on here?” Yennefer questioned calmly. They were in the restroom lobby, just out of earshot of the main room.

“This one sat across from us at the table, complaining of all these pains, and I thought to come and make sure she was alright. I caught her folding the water bottle back under her shirt!”

Yennefer stood in shock, wondering why on earth she had gone to so much trouble to appear pregnant. Her dress was lopsided now, and she could tell there was something stuffed underneath the hand on her abdomen. Clarissa wandered into the lobby behind them, and caught the end of her accusation. “Philippa, why?” Yennefer couldn’t help herself but to add, “How could you lie to Eskel?”

“I was supposed to have Geralt, but no, you had to get in the way.” Philippa looked at Yennefer with disgust. It truly was jealousy that had caused the problems between them. “We hit it off right away, and I knew it was something special. We even went to dinner together once, but all he did was blather on about _you_.”

She huffed, “How I should ask your advice about my scenes on the show, and just how fucking great _you_ were. _I_ should be in the spotlight, and it should be me everyone caters to. I’m a better actress than you are, and you stole my life!”

“Were you ever pregnant?” Yennefer couldn’t get past how hurt Eskel would be.

“I had a positive test at first, but when I took another to show him, it was negative. I had already built it all up, and I didn’t deserve that disappointment.” Her voice raised in pitch and Calanthe came through the doors with a concerned expression. Yennefer waved her back, hoping she would stop anyone else from seeking them out and make an excuse for them to the guests. 

Yennefer tried to sympathize with Philippa, understanding of the intense emotions a baby brought into one’s life, but Clarissa had heard enough.

She went off, “I knew it, and you have the gall to ask my husband why I’ve treated you so coldly. You singlehandedly screwed up my family! I regret the day my son ever laid eyes on you.” She narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, using Yennefer’s surprise to her advantage. 

“You seduced him, all while you were sleeping with an older man to get ahead. I’ve seen the _acting_ you’re so proud of, rubbing your little tits all over him. It’s no wonder you turned his head, he had no choice. If he could only see that he deserves better, your own mother didn’t even want you.”

Yennefer slapped her. She slapped her mother-in-law so hard that she bent to the side, cradling her cheek. Nenneke put her arm around Yennefer and Calanthe stepped in between them all.

“You can both see yourselves out. Now.”

Clarissa straightened, searching the little room until her smile made Yennefer want to wretch. She followed her gaze to a small security camera that blinked innocently in the corner of the room. “Thank you Yennefer. Now it’ll be my husband who files charges and _sends_ you to jail, no more fishing you out of the gutter.”

It seemed Clarissa was done with Philippa too, and she strode out the opposite set of doors, toward the main floor of the castle.

———

Twenty minutes later the men returned from their outing and began defusing the situation. Clarissa had demanded the hotel staff call the authorities to document what she described as a vicious attack. The moment Geralt walked in the doors she fell upon him, crying and lamenting how his shrew of a wife had assaulted her. Griffin sent them on their way in record time, and drove his soon-to-be ex wife straight to the airport.

Yennefer’s main worry was the painful looking conversation happening in the courtyard below the balcony she and Geralt stood on. He felt terrible for what had happened while they were gone, and her heart ached for him, knowing he would never allow his mother back into their lives. Eskel’s voice raised as he paced the garden path below them.

“This is why you told me you were in pain, and you didn’t want to be touched.” He ran his hands through his hair desperately. “This is why you wouldn’t let me go to the doctor with you. You were too busy lying to me to come up with a better excuse!”

“I’m sorry!” She shouted, tears tracked down her cheeks. “You were just so excited, and I knew I couldn’t compete with her, without the baby!”

“What would you have done in June, stolen a child? And why the fuck do you think you need to compete with her!?” He slowed his manic pace. “It’s a good thing you wouldn’t live with me in Poland. Leave my brother and his wife alone. I’m serious. Forget they exist. Forget I exist too, this is the last of it Philippa. Have a nice life.”

Yennefer and Geralt both winced as he slammed the door behind him and left her sobbing on the grass. Geralt held Yennefer close, rubbing her back comfortingly as she hid her face under his chin. It didn’t need to be said, Clarissa’s comments were more than the last straw, and they would have nothing more to do with her.

“Tell me you had a nice time before this all blew up?” Regret laced his voice.

“A wonderful one. The wraps are beautiful.” His lips found her temple. “I promise there’ll be a little person to wrap in them, not a water bottle.” The situation was so absurd that he couldn’t help but bark out a chuckle.

Tissaia and Renfri knocked before joining them on the balcony. “I hope you’ll both come back inside, everyone is still here and enjoying themselves. But before you do, I have a small gift.” She pulled a dainty plate from behind her back and handed it to Geralt. Atop it sat one lone cupcake, covered in sparkly white frosting and a silver wrapper.

“My sister told me that you haven’t found out the gender of the baby yet because she doesn’t want to know. She suspected though, that deep down you would like to, so I made a few calls. If you wish, the cake has a filling, colored blue or pink. You two can be the only ones who’ll know, and the rest of us so pleasantly surprised a month from now.” Renfri snapped a picture of the surprise on their faces and winked, before following her mother back in to the party.

They didn’t need to discuss it, they were both dying to know. Yennefer had taken to referring to the baby as _he_ , and Geralt insisted that he knew it was a girl. He set the plate on the rail and held the little cake between them. “At the same time?”

She nodded, he peeled the wrapper, and they both leaned forward to bite into the cake. When he saw the pink filling on her lip, he threw his arms in the air in celebration.

“Yes!” He shouted, and Yennefer laughed. He returned the remains of the cake to the plate and kissed her, pulling back a bit to lick the sweet confection from the corner of her mouth.

“Are you happy?” He asked, her celebration wasn’t as loud, but no less joyful. Her teary nod answered his question and he knelt at her feet, the kilt fanning out behind his knees. He would speak to his daughter for a few moments before they went back inside.

The interruption to their day could not bring either of them down from the excitement in their hearts. She cupped his cheek as he nuzzled the soft plaid covering her dress. She would do it all over again, hurt or not, a thousand times over if it meant they would be blessed with that very moment.

\------

_:: Perseus dismounted before he reached the hut, tethering the horse to a thick tree and approaching cautiously. The few years since he’d last been there had taken their toll on the little structure, vines grew up the wall and the flat stone outside the doorway was covered in moss._

_Suddenly her agonized scream pierced the quiet woods around the shack. He’d never been conscious to hear her in that much pain, emotional or physical, but he knew the sound of his wife’s voice anywhere. He lunged forward and she cried out again, her wail shaking him to the core and twisting his stomach in knots._

_His boot mashed into the bright green moss when he threw the canvas door aside, only to stop abruptly. The razor sharp head of an arrow laid against the hollow of his throat, sure to pierce the skin on his next breath. It would be quite a while before he took one, from the looks of the bloody mess sprawled over the cot._

_He forced his gaze from her to the man threatening his life, piercing brown eyes clashing with gold. “Who the bloody hell are ye?” He growled, Eirene’s whimpers muffled by the blanket her face was pressed into. The man was old, his hair grey and his face wrinkled, but he was hearty, and solid of frame._

_Perseus wanted to bark back, who the fuck are you?, but he didn’t care about arguing with the old man. He could see the man had been trying to help her, jars and herbs laid out next to her leg._

_“Her husband. How bad is it?” The arrowhead moved away slightly, and Perseus finally took a half breath._

_“I suppose I’ll have to take your word. You’ll tell me later how you found us.” Glaucus knew she must have revealed her hide away to this man a time ago. “She’s lost too much blood, but I’ve just got this cleaned. Help me cauterize it, no time for sutures.”_

_Perseus pushed past him to kneel by the cot, the fevered skin of her forehead warm under his palm. He cleared his throat jerkily and nodded. Glaucus instructed him to hold her leg together, pulling his knife from the candle that burned on her shelf. “You’ll want to put some weight on her back, she’ll buck something fierce.” Perseus obeyed. “Not too much, the babe.”_

_Before he could protest in confusion, Glaucus brought the piping hot blade down on her tender skin and she arced like a live wire. She jerked and struggled against Perseus’s hold, whimpering and sobbing. Perseus thought he might be sick, seeing her in so much pain, until her pleas began to form words._

_“Papa!” She sobbed, “Papa no, please don’t!” Glaucus moved to the last portion of the wound on her leg. “No! He killed my papa…” Her voice faded from delirium to unconsciousness and Perseus felt frantically for her pulse when she slumped forward. The small room filled with the smell of burning flesh and it mixed with the sharp metallic scent of blood._

_Glaucus applied a wet poultice to her leg and instructed Perseus to slice the cleanest of the linen into strips of bandage. “It’s true.” Perseus jumped in surprise when he spoke, his hearing had been focused in on her deep breathing. “Poseidon is no more, by his daughter’s blade and his son’s traitorous hand. I found her with his body when Triton returned to the field.” He offered._

_Perseus nodded, trying to process everything that had happened in the past few hours. Her leg was bandaged properly and Glaucus rose to fetch cool water from the stream nearby. Perseus sat on the cot and slid his hand around her middle. “She didn’t tell me.”_

_Glaucus stopped, halfway through the doorway. “She had her reasons. Stubborn as they were, I’m willing to bet they were meant to spare you. Girl’s had the world on her shoulders since she was a wee lass, and I can see that nothing’s changed.” ::_

———  
London, England  
-Geralt-

“Geralt, wake up.”

Yennefer rubbed her thumb over the stubble on his cheek. “No,” he mumbled and rolled away from her hand and farther into the pillow. “Jaskier can screw off.”

She smiled, it was four am, and he wasn’t a morning person to begin with. “I have to change the sheets, you’ll have to get up.”

He didn’t open his eyes. “Is it the ice cream again? The bed is big baby, just lay over here with me, I’ll clean it in the morning.”

Her hospital bag was packed and ready, perched by the bedroom door. Kosmos sat next to it, somehow knowing she would leave. She’d woken shortly after midnight with pains, and she measured her breathing as she’d been taught. Kosmos paced circles through the house with her for nearly five hours. She laid down to rest, and her water broke just as she laid on her brand new Egyptian cotton sheets.

She changed into comfortable clothes and timed her contractions while he slumbered away. He was referring to a little incident she had a few weeks prior, falling asleep in their bed with a bowl of chocolate ice cream in her hand. She woke up to him licking it off of her chest.

She smiled at the memory, but bowed her head and released a slow, shaky breath just after. “Geralt, my water broke. I don’t want to come home in a few days to a dirty bed.”

“Get another glass Yen, I’ll clean the broken one later.”

“Alright, you don’t have to come. My mother will hold my hand while the baby’s born.”

A moment passed and he jolted up on his elbows. “The baby!?” He blinked his eyes, taking in her change of clothes and the balled up bedding on her side of the mattress. His feet hit the floor in record time and he looked around the room like he didn’t know what to do first.

“Take your time and get dressed, it’s not an emergency.” She pulled the rest of the bedding to the floor.

“How far apart are - “

“Seven minutes.”

“Seven!? How long have you been awake?” He stumbled into his closet, hurriedly looking for something to wear.

“A while,” she called over her shoulder, taking the linens down the hall to their laundry room. They had returned to London for the birth of their child, so they could be near family and Yennefer’s doctor. The press remained camped out in front of their home, ready for the first glimpse of the newest Thornwald.

He was buttoning up his shirt when she returned empty handed, a grimace on her face. “Please let’s let Salma or Graham finish that, they’ll be here to watch Kosmos anyway. You were only gone _five_ minutes, I think we need to hurry.”

The contraction passed and she leaned her shoulder against the wall by her bag. “First babies take a long time, they told us that in class. We’re doing fine.”

“She’s a week early, what if this isn’t a normal first baby scenario?” He picked up her bag and looped it over his shoulder. It was May first, she wasn’t due for another six days.

“I’m sure everything is going to be fine.” She kissed his cheek and he turned to capture her lips.

———

“How do you _think_ it feels?” She all but snarled. “Someone with half your big Thornwald genes is coming out of me!”

The nurse finished attaching a new bag to Yennefer’s IV. She’d been in labor for seven hours since they arrived at the hospital, and she was dehydrated. “She _is_ pretty small,” the nurse looked at Geralt and back to her, “such trim hips.”

“Not any longer,” Yennefer grit her teeth, “I think she’s going to drop-kick her way out, a very _Geralt_ way to do things.”

Geralt swallowed, holding Yennefer’s hand tighter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Her back arched in pain, “I didn’t mean it as one, _oh,_ mother of - “ Her litany of swears ended in a whimper when she slumped back against the bed.

The hospital had blocked off almost a third of the maternity wing for them in an attempt to keep the press at bay. The waiting room closest was full of their family and friends, anxiously awaiting news from down the corridor. The nurse checked Yennefer’s progress, emerging from under her cotton gown with a smile. “I’ll have the doctor come in and see what she thinks, but I think it’s time for an epidural if you’d like one.”

“YES.” Yennefer was dead serious and Geralt hid his smile against her wrist, placing a pair of light kisses just above the plastic hospital band she wore.

“If you want, _dad_ can update your families and let them know we are headed for the home stretch.”

———

Calanthe was on her feet in an instant when Geralt came through the waiting room doors and Eist followed. Pavetta looked up from her her book, and Griffin looked on with anticipation. Salma and Graham sat at the ready, and Sabrina and Eskel’s flight was due in London any minute.

“She’s doing well, they’re giving her an epidural in a few minutes. She hates me,“ he shrugged with a small smile, “but the nurse says everything is fine.”

“How long has it been? My poor baby, twelve hours.” Calanthe lamented.

“You were sixteen with Pavetta.” Eist spoke up, reminding her. Tissaia came through the door quietly and Calanthe filled her in.

“She’ll be glad to know you’re here.” Geralt offered when she patted his arm.

———

Geralt held the plastic bag the nurse gave him to Yennefer’s lips gently, rubbing her back soothingly as she retched. The nurse winced, “Sometimes people don’t tolerate the epidural well. I’m sorry for your luck.” Yennefer nodded, heaving again. “In fifteen minutes, it’ll be worth it.”

When she was finished, Yennefer laid back only to be swept up in another contraction, pain etched across her face as she squinted her eyes shut. Her face relaxed and she caught her breath. “Tissaia arrived when I was out there, and your mother is worried about you.”

A half smile graced her face. She was getting tired, he could tell. “I remember waiting for Pavetta to be born, it seemed like ages. If only I knew what mom was going through, I would have been more patient.”

He bent over the rail on her bed and pressed his lips to her temple. “I would take this from you in an instant. I love you Yennefer.”

She nodded, overcome by another wave of pain. Her doctor breezed into the room, snapping on her gloves and wheeling her stool to the foot of Yennefer’s bed. Her face went slack and the doctor completed her exam. “Good news Yennefer, you’re just about ten centimeters. You can push whenever you feel the urge to.”

An hour later she was pushing, squeezing Geralt’s hand with all her might, her jaw clenched. She groaned, sagging back against the pillow. “I can’t.” Sweat beaded across her forehead, tears gathering in her eyes, her exhaustion evident. “Geralt, I can’t do it anymore.”

The doctor looked up, but Geralt was already answering her. “You can, you’re almost there. You can do it baby, you’re so strong - stronger than I am.” She tried to deny his words. “Yen, we’re going to meet our _little girl_.”

“A few more strong pushes Yennefer, I can see her head.” The doctor encouraged. The nurse took Yennefer’s knee, and Geralt took the other. Deep breaths and brutal pain later, Yennefer’s cries were matched with the shrill wail of an unhappy newborn.

The doctor laid the baby on Yennefer’s chest, and she promptly burst into tears. She cried both with relief, and with joy. The doctor helped Geralt cut the umbilical cord, and he tipped his forehead to hers, tears in his eyes. “She’s so beautiful, you did so good.” He laid his hand over hers on the baby’s back, her cries fading to whimpers against her mother’s warm skin.

———

The waiting room door opened again, and they all noticed the beaming smile on Geralt’s face. “It’s my pleasure to let you know that Miss Cirilla Eirene Thornwald was born at three fifty-nine pm. She’s eight pounds, two ounces, and twenty inches long. Both mother and daughter are exhausted, but healthy and wonderful.”

Calanthe cheered and crashed into Eist with her hug. Eskel and Sabrina had arrived, and he nearly tipped Geralt over with his congratulations. “Cirilla?” He asked, slapping his back.

“Our version of Cecelia, Yennefer’s middle name.” Geralt couldn’t stop smiling. They all took turns congratulating him, Griffin’s embrace just as proud. Relief washed over Calanthe and she cried quietly, moving to share a hug with her sister, who’s eyes were none too dry herself.

“Alright, a niece! I knew you had it in you bro.” Pavetta winked at him and surprised him with a hug of her own. Sabrina asked again about Yennefer, and he answered, suddenly feeling like he’d been away too long. He headed back inside, promising to come and get them when they could visit Yennefer and the baby.

———

When he returned, they were just as he’d left them. The baby was swaddled in a soft pink blanket and a pink hat, cuddled in Yennefer’s arm. She looked up, her finger slowing on her impossibly soft cheek. “Hi daddy, we missed you.” Her whisper betrayed her tiredness. He unbuttoned his shirt, and took the baby from her oh, so gently. “Now you’ll be her favorite, when she finds out you’re a human furnace.”

Cirilla blinked slowly as she settled against his chest, too tired to put up more of a fight than a few pitiful squeaks.

“She’s so perfect, as perfect as her mommy.” He took Yennefer’s hand, stroking the baby’s back with the other. Yennefer’s eyes closed and he brushed a kiss to his daughter’s fine blonde hair. “My little girl. I love you and mommy so much, more than anything.”

———

He knew they were home. Geralt and Yennefer stood in their garage, listening to Kosmos whine on the other side of the kitchen door. Graham spoke to him from inside, but knew his humans were home, and he was desperate to get to them. Geralt held the carseat in one hand, and Yennefer’s hand in his other. The baby was asleep having demanded her second breakfast before they left the hospital. She was bundled so tightly in the seat between the blanket Calanthe had tucked in the carrier and her little coat and hat that she’d ridden home in a little cocoon.

“How should we do this? He’s excited.” Geralt prayed to God the dog was good with the baby. Cirilla, Ciri for short, would require much of Yennefer’s attention once given to him. He was still a relatively young dog, and a massive one at that.

“Why don’t you go in first and reassure him everything is all right. He knows I’ve changed, the book said I would have been smelling different to him for a while now. I’ll come in with her and let him smell me and the carrier. We’ll introduce him again and you can hold him.”

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll just be a minute.” He handed her the carrier and went inside, letting Kosmos jump and prance and celebrate his reappearance. They had been two days in the hospital, and it was the longest he’d been away from them since Geralt adopted him. Graham filled him in, the fridge was stocked and Calanthe had been over fussing over feminine things up in Yennefer’s bathroom so she would have what she needed.

Geralt commanded Kosmos to sit, and bent to take his big fuzzy head in his hands. “Listen bud, I love you, but your baby sister is home now, and we’ve got to be careful.” Kosmos huffed. “Just do your best and be a calm, good boy.” As though he could understand Geralt’s plea.

“I’m coming inside now.” Yennefer’s voice through the door perked him up, but Geralt commanded his butt back to the tile. She crossed through the threshold gingerly, holding the carrier high.

“Hi my handsome boy.” Her soft tone had his tail thumping on the floor, but Geralt stood above him and he didn’t move. She scratched behind his ears. “I missed you my love. Look who came home with us.” She let him sniff the edges of the carrier. His nose danced across the soft blanket and he took a long time registering the new smells.

He was satisfied after a while, and Yennefer took the baby upstairs and Kosmos followed at a safe distance, observing. Geralt brought in their bags, baskets laden with gifts and balloons, and set to fixing them something to eat. He heard a shrill cry from upstairs, and she called for him. He took the stairs two at a time, but Kosmos was practically hiding on the other side of the room to get away from the harsh sound when he arrived in their bedroom.

She took in the look on his face. “Everything’s fine, I just wanted an extra set of hands for him while I take her out.”

He was relived, “Of course.”

Yennefer extricated the baby from the seat and laid her on the bed, checking her diaper. “Someone has a hungry belly?” A dramatic cry was her response, and Yennefer unbuttoned her top. She got the baby nestled in her arm properly and it was clear that hunger had been the cause of her harsh alarm.

Geralt knelt by the bed where they sat and beckoned the dog closer. He sat next to Geralt on the floor, sniffing and sniffing until a small foot stretched and peeked from the blanket. He turned his head, sniffed some more, and finally settled his chin on Yennefer's knee.

It would be a while before Geralt and Yennefer began to relax their guard between he and the baby, but little did they know that the two would be inseparable from then on. Yennefer would come to lament that she was no longer his favorite, favoring the baby when they were separated or in different rooms. Geralt insisted it was because she was so small, she needed his protection the most. Whatever the reason, they were relieved and thankful that he accepted her as a part of his little family.

———  
-Calonetta-

Calonetta settled on the couch in the Thornwald home for the second time, appreciative that they welcomed her. The new parents hadn’t given an interview since Yennefer gave birth, and the media was beside itself with the audacity they showed in trying to protect their private life. They trusted only Calonetta, who’s career had taken off due to their favoritism.

That morning she would only be interviewing Geralt, they’d asked that Yennefer be given the time to sleep. She had no qualms about it, remembering her sister’s life with a newborn and how exhausting breastfeeding could be, even with the most supportive partner. She got a bonus though, little Cirilla would be in attendance, strapped in a warm wrap against her father’s chest. With the baby came the dog, so really she had three of them.

She came alone, no camera man or recorder, wishing to keep the baby’s exposure to outside illnesses at a minimum. Geralt offered her a drink, and sat gingerly on the opposite sofa, as not to wake the baby. His voice was low and soft, and it was clear the baby was completely used to hearing his deep baritone as she remained nonplussed.

“I’ll just ask some questions, you answer them only if you choose too, and I’ll simply write a print article picking and choosing from the lot. Feel free to just pass if it’s something you two would rather not release.”

He nodded, his palm absentmindedly patting the baby’s bottom gently.

“You’re six weeks into this fatherhood thing, how have you found that it’s changed your life? And how are you working in time to film?”

“It’s flipped my life upside down in the most wonderful way, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Yennefer is a wonderful, hands-on mother, but she lets me help and try to pull some of my weight with middle of the night changes and things. She’s pretty good for me, I can get her calmed down and to sleep a lot of the time, but nothing beats _mom_. Kosmos is infatuated with her. If she was up in her nursery, you might not have seen him at all today.” The dog perked at his name and Geralt itched under his jaw.

“Filming is a bit chaotic right now, as you know we’re based in Warsaw this season, and I’ve still got a lot to film. We were proactive scheduling Yennefer’s scenes, and they’re all taken care of for the season. I’ve been flying back almost every day that I’m there, and if I haven’t been able to come home we’ve had family at the house for support. It’s only been a handful of nights that I’ve missed, and honestly I don’t want to be without them. It’s only a few hours of sleep with the baby, but it’s a few more than if I’m laying awake in Warsaw, wondering what I’m missing or if Yen needs help.”

Calonetta smiled as she scribbled down his answers.

“What, if anything, are you willing to let the word know about your little girl?”

“Yennefer and I talked about this, and I can let everyone know her name is Cirilla Eirene. Yes, we’ve named our daughter after a fictional character,” he smiled, “but that character is important to us. We met filming Altantis, and I honestly think there are so many similarities between she and Yennefer that it’s warranted. They’re both fiercely loyal, strong, loving women who don’t take no for an answer. We owe Perseus and Eirene a lot.”

He left out the fact that it would have been impossible to name her after one of their mothers, Yennefer really having two, and his own mother certainly not deserving of it at that point. He let Calonetta lean in close and get a good look at her little face.

“She’s a little angel. I won’t publish, but what color are her eyes? Her parents having such unique and beautiful coloring, I find myself wondering.”

Geralt leaned over the coffee table and grabbed a little bag that sat close to him. “I haven’t given her this yet,” he pulled out a small velvet box, “but they’re green, just like this stone.” He showed her the thin band inside the box, a small little emerald inlaid in the setting. “Emerald is also her birthstone, so I got this band to fit with Yen’s wedding band setting.”

“That is _the_ most romantic thing. You two set the bar high, too high!”

Geralt was too focused on running his fingers through the tufts of platinum blonde hair on her head to register her praise. Her cheek was nestled against his chest and she looked perfectly content to stay there. “She’s healthy and happy, and everything we could have ever asked for. You can print that too.”

Calonetta nodded. “One last question. Eirene herself isn’t in a great situation right now. How hard was that for you? She’s your wife, and we’ve just discussed how close we all are to her fictional character as well.”

He knew Eirene’s predicament would come into play during her interview. “It was hard to watch someone you love go through that, even if they _are_ acting. It’s harder when it’s your pregnant wife screaming and crying. It’s safe to say that we both felt Eirene’s pain. Her injury isn’t something that Perseus is going to sweep under the rug. There’ll be retribution, count on it.”

There was a soft knock on the door and his face lit up to see Yennefer slip in the room. Callonetta could tell she was tired, but there was no less love on her face when she sat down next to Geralt and leaned into his chest. They talked for a few minutes before Cirilla stirred, and Calonetta got to see her beautiful green eyes for herself.

She published her brief article and a photo they provided. As she expected, it wasn’t of the baby’s face, but of Geralt and Yennefer’s hands held together, Ciri’s little foot peeking from the blanket she was wrapped in. The public simply clamored for their breadcrumbs, and Calonetta vowed to help them maintain their privacy and keep control of their reputations - the little soul in Geralt’s arms deserved it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’m betting the open air market in Poland doesn’t run during the winter, but it does in my world XD. And as always, I’m fudging my geography and timing to fit my needs so pretend with me. Finally I have her born on Beltane - *patting myself on the back for the tiny canon nod*. My Geralt is a complete sap here, and I maintain that he would be. Nobody can say no to a little Ciri! Yen was very worried about her sheets 🤣 but I think she’s fussy to begin with and she has to have things ‘just so’, even more so with nesting things happening.  
> My love of Triss is so evident LOL.
> 
> “Sprinkle of cinnamon” is borrowed from The Office, that’s how Pam takes her coffee.


End file.
